What I Want
by Vietta
Summary: Reno's POV. So far Reno's life is just one mistake after another. With death threats from Tseng echoing after him he tries desperately to unattach himself from Elena, failing miserably and causing more trouble than he intends to.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Alrighty, meet my new plot bunny! I've decided to write this in first-person because I have only ONE other story written in first person and it's never bad to get some practice. I'm not sure if this will be a multi-chaptered one or not, but I'm preeetty sure that I'll have no choice but to extend it simply for my own sake if not yours.**

**All of this is in Reno's POV.**

* * *

I hate being sober. Sober provides that small and sudden period of lucidity after a night of drinking that lets me realize just what I did and who I did it with. At the moment, as I'm lying in bed on my stomach butt-ass naked while some girl I don't remember bringing home combs her fingers through my hair, scratches her nails down my back, and whispers some bullshit at me about how she needs to go home and feed her cats, mispronouncing my name about seven times because she's so wasted that she can't remember what it is, I curse sobriety.

Why can't I just be off my ass drunk all the time? That way when I bring home crazy cat lady and sleep with her I don't have to realize that she wasn't who I wanted. I wouldn't have to think about the fact that the fingers trailing over my back, silently begging me to fuck the weird cat obsessed freak again before she leaves aren't sending the type of shivers I want down my spine. I wouldn't have to realize that the somewhat slurred voice purring into my ear like one of those damned cats I somewhat remember pretending to care about last night is not the voice I want to hear. If I could just stay drunk all the time, I wouldn't have to pretend to care that the warm body pressing against mine is leaving. I wouldn't have to pretend that I want to see crazy cat lady again when she pulls a business card out of her gaudy as hell purse that I vaguely remember puking in and presses it into my half-asleep hands. I wouldn't have to fake a yawn to keep her from kissing me before she leaves and hopefully never comes back.

I wouldn't have to care that she stole my shirt either.

I roll over and glare at my ceiling for awhile after she leaves, still too tired to get the hangover whose ghastly effects I should be immune to by now. I throw her disturbingly soggy business card onto the floor where it lands noiselessly next to the dark piles of dirty laundry piled haphazardly around my room that will create a wonderfully difficult post-binge drinking obstacle course for me tomorrow morning. Work tomorrow will be hell.

Tseng will be able to see my hangover from a mile away and he will feed off my self-inflicted pain and anguish. Rude will just grunt and toss my paperwork onto my desk with more force than usual so he can watch me cringe at the almost soundless thump. Elena; well, Elena's reaction to me every morning is hard to predict. Depends on what time of the month it is, if you catch my drift.

I roll over and try to awkwardly squirm myself away from the sticky mess that has ruined my sheets. Fortunately for me, crazy cat lady was as unexciting in the sack as a crazy cat lady can get so a good sized portion of my bed is clean and dry. It's that part that I curl up and try to die in.

Oh super fun completely oblivious drunken self, why have you forsaken me?

* * *

Waking up is hell. I thought work was hell, but waking up is definitely worse. The alarm clock screams every morning at precisely seven o'clock, but that's my own fault for setting it so that I can sober up a little in time to get ready to be late for work. I crawl out of bed pathetically, something I've been getting better and better at with practice, and totter unsteadily to my feet and half-walk, half-fall into the shower so I can try and smell decent today. I learned a while ago that no one but me can appreciate the lovely scent that is stale Reno.

Why the hell I want to go to work, I'm not exactly sure. Work has been absolute hell lately, hung-over or not. Tseng has been shoving more paperwork on me than normal even though we've had nothing happen in the past month that would require the stupid duplicate and triplicate filing he wants. Rude has been off as well, his unusually quiet and standoffish demeanor even more unusually quiet and standoffish, if that's even possible. The only normal person has been Elena; happy, moody, predictably unpredictable Elena.

As I turn on the shower with some difficulty due to the pounding throbbing sensation that has fully permeated my entire body, I can't help but think the horridly depressing thought that the thing at work that is off is me. I've been drinking more lately, having more random sex with strangers, and at the rate I'm smoking I'm surprised my lungs haven't given me the finger and given up completely. All things considered, I should be in line for a new liver, I should have about fifty awkwardly placed rashes, blisters, and boils related to various sexually transmitted diseases, and I shouldn't be able to breathe. Yeah, I'm the perfect picture of fuckin' health.

I only manage to get myself halfway clean in the shower before I give up on the stupidly slippery soap that absolutely refuses to remain in my hand long enough for my bleary eyes to focus on the part of my body I want clean, which is all anyone really expects of me anyways. I slip on the floor and fall on my face the second I step out of the shower; I forgot to close the shower curtains and the floor is sopping wet, which means my towel is too. This means I get to go to work looking like a drunken drowned rat, instead of just a drunk. How I've survived on my own for over twenty years is a complete and total mystery when I can't even manage to shower right.

The honest truth is surviving isn't exactly the term most would use to describe me. Barely able to scrape by sounds a lot more accurate. I haven't had a decent hair cut in years; I usually just chop off whatever part of my bangs is bothering me and throw the rest in a ponytail because actually paying for a haircut would put a small dent in my alcohol and cigarette fund. I don't eat much for the same reason I don't get my hair cut. The alcoholic inside me thinks the idea of a healthy happy me is repulsive so to keep my alcoholic little self happy, I stay unhappy and unhealthy.

After sloshing my way through the lake that used to be my bathroom I wander into the kitchen. I still haven't bothered to get dressed and I would be dry if it weren't for the fact that any towels I have are now sitting on the floor of the bathroom trying to soak up the lake before it leaks through the floor and drips into the apartment of the guy that lives below me. Last time that happened he wasn't very happy with me and I received a rather extensive bill from him. Since bills like that tend to cut into my drinking fund I've decided that it's not in my best interests to get another one. Well, maybe it is in my best interests to be forced out of drinking for awhile, but the alcoholic in me just refuses to go through that again.

If there is one thing I can manage to do right, it's brew a pot of coffee. I'm not sure what I would do if I didn't have coffee around to wash away the flavor of cheap booze and the horribly invasive taste of crazy cat ladies. I chug down one cup with a few painkillers to take the edge off the hangover and then take the next cup slowly, savoring the morning goodness that puts my pounding head at ease. As I sober up some more with my coffee I drip onto the slick linoleum that covers my kitchen floor and the second I set my cup down and make to leave the kitchen I fall flat on my face. I'm going to have a lot of interesting bruises to try and explain at work today. Hopefully everyone will think I just got in a bar fight again last night and they won't pry too much. It's not hard to believe that I got in a fight; my drunken alter-ego has a bad habit of picking fights with the first person to look at me cross-eyed or make a valid complaint about my inexcusable behavior. I'm not very nice drunk, but I'm not very nice sober either. I guess I'm just an all around asshole.

Pants are difficult when hung-over. I've made a note of this several times, but I have not yet found a way to simplify the task of putting them on. Shirts are pretty easy, especially when I don't button them all the way and conveniently forget to tuck them in the way Tseng wants me to. Someday I'll do it just to confuse him, but after that it'll never happen again, so I'm saving the properly dressed idea for a special occasion.

There is one thing I don't ever forget to do in the morning, hung-over, drunk, or sober, and that's brush my teeth. No matter how many tries it takes me to get the toothpaste onto the brush I do it. I've seen what happens to the stupid bastards who don't brush their teeth, I'm usually the one who knocks their teeth out actually. I like my teeth in my head. Besides, who the hell wants to walk around smelling morning breath, let alone tasting it?

* * *

By the time I pull myself into work I should be late. Unfortunately for me, today marks the day where the clocks were supposed to jump back an hour. Whoever thought of daylight savings time should go die. It makes no sense and every single year I lose sleep because I forget all about changing my clock. Tseng raises an eyebrow when I stagger into the office early, something like approval written in the smirk that crosses his face as I half heartedly salute at him. Too bad I'll be late again tomorrow, he seems to like the fact that I'm here early.

One thing that makes me feel better is the fact that I'm not the only one who has unwittingly dragged himself out of bed early. Rude looks like shit. I smile at him and he gives a rather grumpy grunt in my general direction, a sure sign that he is happy to see me. I wander into the break room to celebrate the first time I've been early all year by brewing a nice big pot of strong coffee for us poor, unfortunate, sleepy souls who can't remember to fix their clocks.

By the time I'm on my third cup Elena walks in, as bright and chipper as ever as she waves at me and Rude and sips at a foam cup filled with something that _has_ to taste better than this shitty break room coffee. She's so happy that she's practically glowing as she sits next to me, not seeming to notice the bruises on my face or the dark circles under Rude's eyes.

"Morning guys!" Her voice is loud. So very, very loud. It makes my hangover angry.

Rude gives her his grunt of greeting and I quickly swallow my mouthful of coffee, scalding my throat in the process. "Mornin' Laney." It hurts to talk, but there's no way I'm going to give up the chance to talk to Elena.

She sips at her coffee and gives us both a rather smug look. "You forgot to change your clocks, didn't you?"

Rude groans and quickly buries his sorrow at loosing an hour of sleep in his coffee. I nod and follow his lead. Sometimes coffee is the only cure for the blues.

Elena giggles and pulls a box out of her awkwardly large purse. I have no idea what girls find so appealing about purses, but I'm sure whatever it is has to be hiding in that box. "I figured you two would forget so I brought something that might cheer you guys up!" She has to be so happy for a reason. There's no possible way someone can wake up with that much happy on their face.

Rude raises an eyebrow and opens the box. Inside sit a dozen wonderfully glazed donuts. He takes one with an utterly blissful look on his face and begins munching on it with a small grunt of thanks. I've gotta hand it to Elena, she really knows how to make someone's ridiculously sucky day a million times better. "Laney, have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

Elena blushes and giggles again, briefly hiding behind her cup in an attempt to hide how happy she is with my compliment. "No, but you can say it again when I haven't bribed you with food."

I laugh and happily take one of the delicious donuts. There is just something about a donut that will make any morning better, hung-over or not. "Why ya so happy this morning Laney-pie?"

Elena blushes and feigns confusion. "What do you mean? I'm always happy!"

I snigger and munch on my donut with as happy a smile as I can manage while my head throbs in protest. "Yeah, but today you're happier than normal. Spill the beans Laney, what's got you in such a good mood?"

Elena grins and practically bounces in her seat. There should be laws against so much happy before noon. "My birthday is tomorrow!"

I would slap myself in the face if it wouldn't aggravate the bruises that are slowly swelling on my abused face. I'm so bad at remembering things that it's a wonder I can tie my shoes without instruction. "No shit? Damn! How old are you gonna be birthday girl?"

"Twenty-seven." Elena blushes softly and plays with the edge of her cup. I really love it when she blushes, it makes her look so pretty and I can't help but fight the urge to pet one of those flushing cheeks every time she does it. I hate having to keep my hands to myself, but Tseng was very clear when he hired her that I was not to touch. I can look all I want, but touching is absolutely forbidden.

Rude whistles appreciatively and grins at her. "How are you celebrating?"

Elena shrugs and the blush fades, much to my chagrin. "I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do."

Tseng walks in before I can suggest my favorite birthday plans, which is probably a good thing. I'm pretty sure Elena doesn't find strippers and booze as appealing as I do. "Rude! A word please."

Rude nods and leaves, giving Elena a gentle pat on the back and a smile as he walks away. I hate the fact that everyone but me is allowed to touch her. She looks at me and smiles before getting up. "I'll see you later Reno, I've got some paperwork to catch up on."

She leaves and I'm left in the break room by myself, a quickly cooling cup of coffee in one hand and a half eaten donut in the other. Suddenly neither taste as good as they did five seconds ago. For some reason food always tastes better when Elena is in the room.

I sigh and toss the donut and coffee in the garbage, my appetite suddenly gone. I walk to my office with my hands in my pockets, winking at a few secretaries on the way. For some reason even though I look like shit and smell like ass women are still drawn to me. It's too bad the one woman I actually want has been put completely out of my reach.

I sit at my desk and spin the chair around a few times before the hang-over swears at me for being such an idiot and making myself dizzy. I shakily pull my paperwork towards me as I try to fight the overwhelming urge to vomit all over the place and start filling it out. Paperwork doesn't help nausea and pretty soon I'm running to the bathroom to throw up. Once I'm done pouring my insides into the toilet I feel so much better that I skip back to my office. There's something about eating that just doesn't agree with me. Maybe it's the whole 'food' concept, or it's the fact that ninety percent of the time I'm hung-over.

Either way, I feel like I wasted a perfectly good donut.

I pass the rest of my morning in a confusing haze of doing paperwork and really needing a cigarette. When lunchtime finally rolls around I rejoice and run outside, pulling out a cigarette with somewhat bloody fingers, whoever made paper so sharp needs to die. I curl up in my smoking spot outside to soothe the savage nicotine addicted beast that's been bouncing around my head since my hangover started pulling its claws from my brain.

I sit on the concrete and breathe toxic clouds in peace, my entire body relaxing as the head pounding craving is sated. Cigarettes and I have a love hate relationship. I love them, but hate the fact that every five minutes it seems like I need another. I also hate the looks of disgust I get from people who pass by as I slowly pickle my insides with the toxic smoke. I have no idea why these strangers care that I'm more comfortable breathing smoke than air, but it pisses me off when they look at me the way they do.

I start and nearly drop my cigarette when I hear a far too chipper voice behind me, burning my fingers as I fumble to keep my cigarette. Elena giggles and sits down beside me on the pavement, a completely unheard of and seemingly taboo move.

I hastily wipe off the ash that exploded all over me when I played catch with my cigarette and she smiles at me. "So this is what you do on your lunch breaks Reno?"

I blush and she giggles again. If my stupidity makes her smile then I think I'm going to purposefully drop my IQ a few more notches. "Y-yeah, this is what I do." I sound like a stuttering idiot, but that makes her smile more. Stupidity certainly does work well on women.

Elena waves some smoke out of her face but otherwise doesn't seem to mind when I take a shaky puff on my cigarette. "You don't eat?"

I shake my head and instantly feel guilty when she frowns cutely at me. Damn her and her ability to make me feel. I look away and try not to spill any more ash on my smarting fingers. "No, not really. Food and I don't get along lately."

She sighs and pulls her knees up to her chest. "I…uh…I heard you throwing up earlier."

I could slap myself right now. While rushing towards the bathroom I had completely forgotten that the one I was using was right next to Laney's office. I should've just stayed in my office and barfed out the window. I'm sure passerby would have gotten a kick out of that. "I puked my guts out, but with the grace of Gaia and a long handled spoon I got them back in." She giggles and I feel a small amount of pride for my sudden wittiness.

"You look like you got in a fight last night." Elena suddenly grabs my face and forces me to look at her, something I've been trying to avoid doing since she sat down.

The only thing I can think about when she touches my face is how much the throbbing pain eases. I thought that having someone touching a hurt makes it worse, but her hands are so gentle and cool that the almost feverish ache in my face vanishes. I can almost feel her hand pulling the heat out of my somewhat swollen face and as she stares at me I know I'm supposed to be making excuses right now. I'm supposed to be explaining away the somewhat purple bruises littering my face, but my mouth isn't working. Hell, I'm pretty sure my brain has shut down completely. I'm stuck admiring neatly parted yellow hair, honey brown eyes, and cherry pink lips. Right now those lips are frowning because I have yet to answer the unasked question of why I'm so banged up. "I had a minor disagreement with gravity this morning."

"It looks like gravity kicked your ass." Elena giggles but doesn't release my face. I'm hoping that's because she likes holding it, but I'm inclined to think she has some other reason for keeping my face in place.

I laugh and shove my forgotten cigarette into the ground as it burns closer and closer to my already singed fingers, not bothering to light another one. I don't want to smoke anymore, not while Elena is around at least. "You should see how gravity looks right now if you think this is bad."

Elena doesn't answer as she continues staring at me. If it were anyone else grabbing my face and forcing me to look at them, I'd be pissed and they'd be bleeding, but since it's Elena and I really don't mind looking at her I stay still. I can tell there's something else she wants to ask, but I'm not confident enough in my control over my speech to try and say something to end the silence.

We both jump when Tseng clears his throat and stands in front of us, looking as official and intimidating as he normally does. I immediately pull my face away from Elena's grip and stare at the ground where my still smoldering cigarette end lay smoking weakly on the pavement. I can feel the disproval Tseng is practically radiating towards me and I know I'm in trouble.

"Reno, I need to see you in my office in ten minutes." Tseng's voice is crisp and clear and leaves no room for argument so I simply nod. There's no point in trying to defend what remains of my lunch break, it's not like I'm using it anyways.

Elena seems to think about that differently than I do though because she's bristling with the indignation I should be feeling. "Tseng! We've got almost a half hour left in our lunch break! Technically he's off duty right now and you can't call him into your office in ten minutes! It's not fair!"

Tseng is frowning at her; I don't have to look at him to know that. "A Turk is never off duty Elena."

I think I like it when she's angry for me, it saves me the trouble of trying to out-argue Tseng. "That's not true and you know it Tseng! You won't be able to call me in tomorrow while I'm gone so why should you be able to call him in while he's on break?"

I finally look up, confusion pulling my eyebrows up my forehead. "You're going to be gone tomorrow Laney?"

She turns from Tseng and the angry scowl on her face disappears to be replaced with a happy smile. "Tomorrow's my birthday silly! Of course I'm taking the day off!" She turns back to Tseng and the scowl etches into her face again. "The point is Tseng you can't call him in during our lunch break!"

Tseng sighs and runs a hand over his face, a sure sign that he is not in the mood to argue the point. I'm not sure if that means he's going to give the battle to Elena, but I kind of hope he does. I really don't want to have her angry at Tseng over something about me. "Elena, he's not going to use his lunch break to eat and we both know it!" Elena scowls at him and he rolls his eyes. "Dammit Elena! Fine, I'll compromise. Reno, meet me in my office in fifteen minutes."

He leaves and I gape, ridiculously confused but fairly happy with the change in plans, no matter how slight a change it is. I won't tell Elena, but I really don't want to leave her company and even a few extra minutes with her is something for me to treasure. We've been talking for only a few minutes and now my hangover seems like a thing of the past, my face barely even twinges, for the first time in what feels like forever I'm not dying for a cigarette or booze, and I think I can feel a genuine smile pulling on my lips.

Elena is almost growling with indignation and somehow she manages to make blind fury look pretty as hell. She turns to me and frowns. "Are you just going to let him push you around?"

I shrug and school my face to indifference, lighting up a cigarette simply for something to do. I light it, but I just hold it as she frowns at me. "Why shouldn't I? I don't mind and I didn't really have any plans ya know?" My real thought is that he's my boss and if I do what he says maybe he'll stop swamping me with paperwork and expecting me to actually do it, but I'm pretty sure that would sound pretty damned whiney so I keep that thought in my head.

Elena sighs and shakes her head. "It's not that, it's the principle of it!"

I laugh and flick ash off my cigarette, watching the death stick burn closer to my fingers. "I'm not too worked up about it. So whatcha gonna do on your day off Laney?"

She smiles as I expertly distract her from her anger at Tseng. "I'm going to go shopping, duh! What else is a girl gonna do?"

I grin evilly. "Go mud wrestling?"

Elena rolls her eyes and punches me in the shoulder lightly. "In your dreams Reno!"

If only she knew how right that statement was.

She giggles and wraps her arms around her knees. "I've got the morning filled up with shopping, but I'm not sure what I'm going to do in the evening. I was actually kinda wondering…If you'd like to spend the evening with me. You know, if you're not busy or anything?"

I gape and she blushes as I try to absorb what she just said. I'm pretty sure that invitation for a night with Elena was for me, but I'm also sure I might be delirious. "Huh? Me?"

Elena blushes darker and smiles at me. "Well you're the only one here aren't you?"

I look around and shove my cigarette into the pavement as it burns my fingers. "Yeah I guess so since I don't think you're trying to invite the hobo over there." The bum gives me the finger as my voice carries across the empty street.

"No I don't think I want to invite him, he seems rather rude." Elena sticks her tongue out at the bum and giggles as he returns the gesture. "So… Do you want to come?"

"Of course I do!" I beam and stand, dusting off my shirt. "I'll meet you after work?" I stretch a hand down to help Elena up, hoping she'll take it without noticing that it's shaking violently.

She lets me help her up and nods. "Sounds good Reno! I'll meet you at your place?"

I nod and give her a sloppy salute. I normally have a sloppy salute on purpose, but this one is the worst I've ever given since my hands are shaking so much I'm surprised I can work them. "That sounds good. I'm gonna go see Tseng before his head explodes, okay?" I turn and run off before she has time to respond.

As I sprint up the stairs I try to tell myself that my face is red because of the stress brought on by sprinting pell-mell up sixty-four flights of stairs, but I know there's a completely different reason for it. Tseng probably won't buy that excuse either since he knows I have the uncanny ability to run from the top floor to the bottom without any signs of effort after pulling a skillfully timed prank that completely ruins an entire meeting. He absolutely despises me for being able to get away so quickly after forcing another Reeve-filled meeting into his schedule. It's the cruelest form of payback I can think of for all the paperwork he gives me.

I stop in front of his office and use any of the remaining fifteen minutes I have left to control my breathing and force the blood from my face. Once I feel that I've controlled myself enough to face Tseng I open the door and swagger in with all my usual pomp and circumstance. "Yo boss-man! What's on your mind?" I throw myself into the chair across from his desk and shove my feet onto his nicely filed papers.

The fact that he didn't immediately shove my feet to the floor lets me know just how angry he is.

Tseng frowns and pulls a file out from under my feet, smoothing it and tossing it onto my lap. I raise an eyebrow and pick it up, brushing off some of the dirt my shoes left on the manila folder. "An assignment? I thought you had me in here for an ass chewin'!" I wrinkle my nose and move to throw the file aside when I catch the name printed under the dirt smeared across the front.

Tseng smirks as I feel the blood drain from my face. "I think the assignment should come before the lecture this time."

I shakily open the folder with Elena's name stamped across the front, anger and confusion warring inside me. The only time I have ever seen a mission folder with a Turks name stamped on it was when I was required to eliminate said Turk. It's an assignment that is rarely given and I have only been given it once. It's torture trying to open the envelope when my fingers refuse to obey me. I truly hope Tseng doesn't want me to kill Elena, I simply can't do it.

Tseng chuckles as he watches me fumble with the envelope. "It's not an elimination order, Reno. Her name isn't written in red."

I sigh with shaky relief and suddenly find myself able to open the envelope. "Thank gaia."

Tseng nods and begins filling out some of the paperwork stacked beneath my feet, yanking it out and brushing it clean with a small frown. I still don't know why he hasn't just pushed my feet off, it's not like I really want them to be propped up anyways. I only have them there to annoy him. His reluctance to remove my feet rekindles my fear of his lecture.

I pull out the file and spend a few seconds simply staring at the picture of Elena clipped to the front. It's not the world's most flattering picture, file photos are rarely taken at opportune times and Elena looks like she's just woken up. I allow myself a small, quickly hidden from Tseng smile before tucking the photo behind the papers and reading the assignment details.

When I finish I look at Tseng and click my heels to get his attention. "What the hell Tseng?"

Tseng sighs and shoves my feet off his desk, something I'm happy about since my ass is starting to cramp from the awkward position I've put myself in. "I thought it was a fairly straight forward assignment Reno, or are you trying to tell me you can't read?"

I've learned to ignore the many comments he makes about my lack of intelligence. "Why the hell do you think Elena would be in any danger? She's just going shopping!"

Tseng frowns at me and sets his papers down. "Listen Reno, the company has lost fifteen personnel this month because of this anti-Shinra group and I'm not taking any chances with my Turks! Elena has already refused my offer to accompany her on her trip and she won't allow Rude to go either. Since she's being difficult I figured it would be wise to send someone to trail her and since you're able to blend in better than Rude and I you're the obvious choice for the job. Besides, I know for a fact you won't let her out of your sight because you like staring at her ass too much for that."

I blush but decide not to deny that fact. Elena does have a pretty nice ass. "So just trail her all day and keep an eye on her?" I can do that; I won't even bother complaining about being given a last minute assignment with little to no time for preparation. I was already going to spend the evening with her, now I get to spend all day watching her and get paid for it. I'm pretty sure this is one of the most kick ass amazing assignments I've been given in a long time.

Tseng nods and folds his hands, leaning across the desk to give me a severe frown. The time for the lecture has come. "You will behave yourself. I have already told you what Rude and I will do if you hurt Elena."

Yeah, he's told me that more times than I want to think about. I can't have her, I'm not good enough for her, I'd only end up hurting her, I'm not faithful enough for the kind of stable relationship she needs; the list of reasons I've been given for why I should keep my hands off Elena is long and grows daily. I have absolutely no desire to awaken the big brother instincts Tseng and Rude have for her. I've abused my body enough on my own and I don't need any help with that.

I sigh and tuck the file back into the folder. "I'll be good."

Tseng frowns. "I doubt we have the same definition of the word, good."

I frown and stand, the file tucked under one arm. "I won't do anything to hurt her. I don't care if you believe that or not, it's the truth."

Tseng resumes filing his paperwork. "No, I don't believe you. It doesn't matter either, because now that you are fully aware of the consequences what happens to you isn't my responsibility."

I stiffen and leave the room without another word, taking the disturbing feeling that I had just been emotionally socked in the gut with me. It feels like Tseng's dismissal of my honesty is the beginning of something truly upsetting, but I've got no idea why I feel this way. It's almost like I was just told that anything and everything I've ever said is worthless and without any value whatsoever. In some ways that's true.

I walk to my office and toss the file into one of the many drawers in my desk before stalking moodily to the bathroom farthest from Elena's office. I sit and stare at myself in the mirror, trying to comprehend just what everyone else thinks about me and why. I only need a quick glance at my reflection to know why Tseng doesn't trust me. How many people would take the word of a drunken, filthy, asshole for truth? I'm rather surprised Rude even bothers to talk to me; maybe he saw something in me once, but whatever it was it has to be gone now. Looking at me in the mirror is something I've been unable to do for a few months. I broke mine into pieces in a drunken fit of self-loathing. I really wish my self-loathing episodes were limited to my drunk time.

I grip the edges of the sink and look down, unable to stand the face look back at me. The idea that a girl like Elena would ever want me is such a joke that I can't help but laugh pathetically. A few people enter the bathroom, leaving quickly when they spot me laughing hysterically by the sink. I'm starting to work myself into a hateful frenzy, something that hasn't happened since the last time I looked in the mirror. I still have scars on my hands from the last time I got this worked up and they stand out as I grip the edge of the sink tightly.

I'm only a few more peals of maniacal laughter away from recreating the scene that happened in my own bathroom months ago when I feel a hand grip my shoulder. I spin around and come face to face with a frowning Rude, the laughter cutting off the second I catch sight of his blurred face. I shakily wipe my confusingly wet eyes. "H-hey Rude."

Rude sighs and pulls me into one of the first hugs I've been given in months.

I start crying again.

Rude and I stay in the bathroom for what feels like hours, but must only be minutes. I don't think I've ever cried so much at one time in my life, I didn't even know I could cry anymore, but once I start I can't manage to stop. Rude's silence and warmth are too comforting and I don't deserve the kind attention he's giving me, a face like the one I saw in the mirror is simply not worth the time and effort Rude seems determined to waste on me.

Eventually the waterworks dry up and Rude leads me back to my office. I'm not even worried about how undignified it is to have to be led back to my office like I don't know where it is, I'm pretty sure dignity isn't something I should even know about anymore.

He leaves and I curl up under my desk, feeling somewhat better after the cry.

I bolt from the office the second work is over and shove past anyone and anything that looks like it might keep me from leaving. I refuse to talk to anyone and I manage to avoid any personal contact. I make it back to my apartment in record time, throwing my jacket and shoes to the floor the second I get the door open.

If I didn't know better when looking at my apartment I would think that I've been robbed. Half of my stuff is broken; most of it is still lying in shambles on the floor where I left it. I feel so worthless when I look at my apartment, but I decided at work that today was the day I would finally clean this shithole.

* * *

It took me three hours, but now; as I sit on my couch and nurse a cup of coffee and stare at the carpet I haven't seen in months, I feel just how worth it my cleaning spree was. In the morning I'll have clean clothes to wear and a dry towel to use and even if I'm not clean myself that will definitely improve my personal hygiene. I'll be able to drink coffee made in a clean pot out of a clean cup and for the first time in I don't know how long I won't be hung-over

I watch a bit of television and smoke a few cigarettes before stripping and throwing myself into bed. I still feel like I've been punched in the stomach, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much anymore. I curl in on myself and place a hand on my cheek, the tingling feeling that reminds me of Elena's gentle touch sending me to sleep shivering.


	2. Chapter 2

I shiver and crush the remains of a cigarette into the ground, quickly lighting another to replace its worn out brother. I've been smoking since I got out of the shower this morning and my supply is running low. I've got three cartons on me, but they won't last another hour at the rate I'm smoking. Ever since Tseng's thinly veiled death threat yesterday I've been on edge, his deep angry voice haunted my dreams and now I'm sitting in an alley by Elena's apartment complex trying to shake off the cold.

Tseng had done his best to sound like he was only concerned for Elena's safety, but I could tell that he had ulterior motives for threatening me. Maybe my paranoia cap is on a little too tight, or I've been wearing it too long, but I know he's out to get me. My next slip up may very well be my last.

I lean against the wall and inhale deeply, immersed in my own atmosphere of smoke and self-loathing. I look at my phone and resist the powerful urge to crush it the way I crushed the last embers of flame out of my dying cigarette. I feel like such a dick-head for what I did, but it had to be done. I can't spend time around Elena without getting Tseng's gun shoved down my throat, no matter how much it hurts me. I'd like to think the pain I heard in her voice when I canceled was more than just the usual aggravation brought on by a last minute change in plans, but I can't think like that anymore. Once I start thinking about the possibility of her actually wanting me I'll start thinking about calling her back to reschedule our plans for the night and that would be stupid. Not only because it would get me killed, but also because I'm officially labeled as a brunette tattoo-less stalker for the day according to Tseng's orders.

I shiver and wait for her to leave her apartment; the light jacket I'm wearing is definitely not warm enough. The fact that it's so early in the morning that the sun hasn't come out yet doesn't help matters any. I've never wanted to see the sun peek over the horizon so badly in my life. Usually I'm waiting for it to dip below the range of the sky so I can drink until I puke my balls out.

When the sun finally comes up to say a long-awaited hello Elena still hasn't come out. I'm starting to get frustrated and I'm one more carton of cigarettes away from marching up to her front door and forcing her to come out so I can stalk her. I'm pretty sure that sort of action isn't what Tseng meant when he told me to be covert, but it sounds a hell of a lot more interesting than sitting in an alley I've fogged over with poisonous smoke. The noxious air stings my oxygen craving eyes, but I simply blink faster. The alley is so full of smoke that I don't even have to light a new cigarette to keep my buzz going, I can just breathe. My poisonous atmosphere scares away all of the biting morning bugs and even chases the rats out of the dumpsters. It also keeps people from poking their noses in and trying to mug me. There are benefits to being a smoker sometimes.

Elena finally leaves her apartment when the sun has had time to stretch and shine a little brighter, drying a majority of the dew on the windows. I watch as Elena looks around, one hand digging through her pocket and the other clutching her purse tightly. She looks beautiful, but I can't think that anymore. I try to find something ugly about her, and decide that that's as impossible as not thinking that she's beautiful. If Tseng were standing next to me I'd slug him for ruining my chances with her. Hell, I probably ruined my chances with her a long time ago, but he ruined the vaguest ghost of a chance.

Elena apparently finds what she was looking for in her pocket and walks on her merry way, forcing me from my foggy alley so I can follow her. She weaves through human and vehicular traffic easily and I only manage to keep up with her by shoving people aside and crossing the street like a frog that can't read road signs. I can see her looking back every now and again for the culprit of so many angry yells, but I manage to move away from the scene of these crimes fast enough to throw suspicion onto someone else.

Elena climbs onto a train and I follow, cursing her choice of transportation. I hate public transit. Every disease ridden weirdo wants to be my friend and every lonely woman tries to get a hand in my pants. I'm sure Elena doesn't fare much better on train rides, she has to have every straight man and lesbian woman ogling her. I know I will be.

I slip into an empty seat and shove a set of player headphones into my ears to keep people from talking to me. I lean back, slyly watching Elena from the corner of my eye as she sits and tries to ignore the not so subtle advances of the man sitting beside her. If I wasn't supposed to be a random stranger to her today I would wring that man's neck. Unfortunately the nameless brunette sitting on the other side of the train can't interfere with the slimy character sitting next to a beautiful girl. I'm supposed to laugh like everyone else when she turns down his weak advances. It's a good thing I can pretend I can't hear his oily voice through my headphones. I grit my teeth and try to pass it off as an unfortunate habit as I watch Elena struggle to keep the man's greasy hands off her.

When Elena finally gets off the train I feel like I've gritted my teeth to powdery nubs. I follow closer than I did last time, yanking the headphones from my ears and stuffing them back into my pocket. I can't stand being unable to do anything. Even as a pedestrian with no connection to Elena I should've been able to tell the man off. Unfortunately she would've recognized me the second I said a word. I make a note to keep an eye out for the scumbag whose face is now so imprinted on my memory I'm sure to have nightmares about him.

Elena window shops for a few hours, apparently undisturbed by the encounter with the oily man who thought he was a slick ticket because of the startling amounts of grease in his hair. She shops until well after noon but doesn't go into any stores, the reluctance to buy anything piquing my curiosity. It's her birthday and she's out shopping, yet she hasn't spent a dime. I'm not sure what she's looking for, but I hope she'll find it.

Elena looks up and I mirror her, staring at a suddenly overcast sky as a rain-scented breeze washes over us. I scowl and scold myself for using washable hair dye; the second the rain starts falling I'll be a bright red splotch stuck in a field of brown and yellow.

Elena sighs and examines the watch on her wrist sadly, the sight making my heart break. She's alone on her Birthday, and I feel like the biggest asshole in the world for making her be that way. I gave her an excuse, a valid albeit shitty one, and even though I know it's not good enough I had hopes that she wouldn't be upset about it. I had hopes. Now I know I'm a stupid dick-head who shouldn't be allowed to look at her.

The rain starts to fall and I swear loudly, the brown dye immediately running down my face in little rivers. I slip under a nearby store sign and try to stay dry, but it's no use. My hair slowly starts dripping brown water and the makeup on my face brushes away at the smallest amount of pressure. My entire disguise is completely ruined in a matter of seconds. I swear again and look up, noticing the fact that I've lost Elena with another loud and very vulgar swear. I go to the store I last saw her by and peek inside, sighing with relief as a bright blonde head makes itself visible among tall racks of clothes. I charge into the store, the closed sign on the front gathering none of my notice despite the very prominent way it stated that something was wrong.

I sigh as I see my reflection in a wall-length mirror stretching around the store. My hair is spotted with patches of red and one of my tattoos is clearly visible. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath, trying to steady my panicky thoughts. If Elena notices me now the entire day will have been a waste and Tseng will shove his foot so far up my ass I'll taste toenail.

I hear a small click behind me and stiffen as cold metal is pressed to the back of my neck. I can see Elena in the reflection in front of me and she looks pissed; sad, but still very, very pissed. I shiver as she glares at my back, not seeming to notice the fact that my hair is dripping dye. In the few seconds where we make eye contact in the mirror in front of me I realize two things that should've been hideously apparent earlier. Firstly, the door was unlocked even though the sign was closed, meaning Elena had picked the lock. This brought me to my second revelation which was that the blonde head I mistook for Elena's was really a similarly dressed manikin. I don't know how I made it into the Turks if simple things like that didn't grab my attention right away.

"Why are you following me?" The gun is pressed deeper into the back of my neck and I shiver, unable to repress a small sigh.

"Just followin' orders Laney." The gun is immediately removed and I squeeze my eyes shut as Elena walks around to look me in the face.

"Reno?" She sounds confused and angry. I don't blame her. She should probably slap me, but she doesn't. Not yet anyways.

"H-hey Laney." I stare at the floor and try not to look at her. Her gun is hanging loosely at her side, a self-engraved set of words easily distinguishable on the side. _'Because I could not stop for Death'._ I wonder what it means to her, but it strikes a certain chord in me that makes me close my eyes again.

I can feel a small set of fingers combing through my wet hair and resist the urge to shiver as Elena's breath ghosts across my face in a small sigh. "Dammit Reno. You could've at least used better dye. Did you honestly think I wouldn't figure out I was being followed? Sorry but you kind of did a shitty job with being subtle."

I shake my head and resist the urge to lean into her hand as it slips through my hair. "Sorry. It was a last minute assignment and I didn't have a lot of time to prepare. I'll do better next time, okay?"

Elena giggles and puts her gun back in her purse without taking her hand from my hair. She trails her fingers over my partly revealed tattoo and wipes the last of the make-up off. "Next time try to think of a better excuse to ditch me than 'going to a funeral'. I'm not stupid. I know you don't have any relatives you give a shit about."

I nod and shiver as she presses her forehead against mine, the contact intoxicating my every sense. "S-sorry."

Elena runs her fingers over my face and hair almost as if she's trying to force me to open my eyes with the gentle caresses. "Also, next time you see some creep talking me up while you're trying to tail me make sure you keep your angry growls to yourself."

I laugh, unable to help myself as I lean into her. I don't allow my aching hands to touch her as I move closer, but I don't think I have enough self-control to keep them still for long. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good." Elena giggles and hugs me happily. I can feel her waist practically begging me to wrap my arms around it, but I refrain. I drink in the sensation of her soft lips pressing against my wet cheek, lingering for only a moment before she steps away and giggles at my instant blush. "Since you ditched me on my Birthday the least you can do is buy me lunch."

I nod and open my eyes, trying to keep my racing heart under control. "I guess that's fair. Uncle Cyrus or whatever I named him is dead already so I think I can wait until tomorrow to go pay my respects."

Elena giggles and grabs my hand, dragging me from the store and into the pouring rain. She doesn't seem to mind the water as we dash along the now empty sidewalk, the skies angrily dumping all the liquid they can onto everything in sight. I can't help but laugh with her as the rain drenches me, washing my hair clean and leaving only the small bit of skin covered by Elena's hand dry.

Elena pulls me into the first restaurant we see, releasing my hand to wring her hair and clothes dry as best as she can. I follow suit as a rather harassed looking hostess leads us to a table in the back of the empty restaurant. I can't help but wonder what's wrong with the woman as she hands us menus, her puffy red eyes looking at us like she's done us a horrible wrong. I soon lose whatever sympathy I have for her as Elena attracts my attention by tossing a sugar packet into my face. I laugh and toss it back; earning one of the most beautiful smiles I've seen in a long time. "What did I do to deserve that Laney?"

Elena giggles and opens her menu. "Don't ogle other girls on my Birthday!"

I open my menu, barely looking at it as I answer. "Shouldn't I ogle someone else for a change? I ogle you every other day of the year."

Elena blushes so dark that her red shirt looks dull. "Maybe you should do more than ogle me on my Birthday then."

I feel my own cheeks turn red and struggle to think of a response. Unfortunately my brain has suddenly been wiped clean of any and all wit and I'm left gaping like a fish as I try to think of something to say. I blush darker as she giggles and bury my head in the menu, trying hard to connect words with meanings as the blood rushes from my brain.

The hostess comes back and I have no idea what I say I want, but whatever it is it makes Elena laugh. I resist the urge to sink into my chair as the protective shield that is my menu is taken by the puffy-eyed waitress. Elena is making it really difficult to keep my hands away like Tseng says I have to. It's aggravating to have her so close yet be unable to touch.

Elena smiles and leans forward, resting her chin on her hands and gazing at me with amused honey colored eyes. "Did you mean to order your burger upside down and bunless?"

I blush and clear my throat, trying to keep my voice from sounding like I just reached puberty. "Course I did."

Elena giggles and watches me carefully as the waitress sets our drinks in front of us. I take a long sip to keep her from asking questions, but she doesn't pick up the hint. "You like me don't you Reno?"

I cough and choke on my soda, my face turning red with a mix of asphyxiation and embarrassment. She waits patiently for me to stop drowning and sips her drink nonchalantly, as if she had asked about nothing more serious than the weather. I take another drink to give myself time to think, not finding any way to brush her question away. "Define like for me."

Elena giggles and watches as I try not to inhale my glass of soda, stirring her drink happily. "I mean like. You know; fond of, tender toward, enjoyable, any of the above."

I blush and blink hard as the world starts to spin. My tongue feels heavy as I answer, a small shiver passing through my body. "Then yes, I do like you."

Elena grins and sways gently in her seat, almost as if she's drunk. Maybe she's not the one swaying, maybe I am. Suddenly the world is getting fuzzy and she clamps a hand to her forehead as she seems to experience the same thing. "R-Reno?"

I stand and sway dangerously, my entire perception of gravity and depth thrown off drastically. Now I know why the hostess looked like she had done us a horrible wrong. "W-we've been d-drugged Laney."

She pales and tries to stand, unable to do so. The drug is more effective on her because of her small frame, the toxin flowing through her system far faster than it does through mine. I have to thank my past as a drug addict and my present as a bumbling alcoholic for my considerable tolerance of most substances.

I pull out my EMR and stand in front of Elena, swaying as I wait for the bitch who drugged us to come and collect. I don't know what she wants from us, but I'm fairly sure she's part of the anti-Shinra group Tseng was worried about. I now know how right he was to worry. Elena and I are both so well trained that, as distracted as we were, we would've been able to smell or taste anything extra that was slipped into out drinks. Whatever we are now tainted with was put in out drinks in small quantities and is both odorless and tasteless. I swear loudly as, instead of the puffy-eyed waitress, the oily man from the train approaches us flanked by several foggy faces. "Yousonvabish!" My tongue is so heavy I can't make it form full words.

The oily bastard laughs, actually _laughs_, and directs a few of his lackeys at us. He obviously knows that even a drugged Turk is something he doesn't want to deal with. I flick on my EMR and jab it in the eye of the nearest crook, effectively blinding him for life. I jump as a gun pokes past my arm and shoots a lackey on my right through the head. Even though she's drugged and half-blind with disorientation, Elena can still shoot better than anyone I know. I feel the powder from the gun singe my hand as Elena shoots again, killing another man in a flash of blood and broken skull. I thrust my EMR into the hand of a man who strays too close to Elena, sending him into tremors as another man grabs my other side and tries to drag me away from Elena. She shoots him in the arm, nicking my own flesh in the process. She grabs at my jacket weakly as I struggle to destroy the fiend who is dragging me away from my beautiful Elena and into the alley behind the restaurant.

I can see Elena struggling to make her drug thickened nerves squeeze the trigger again as men surround her and try to pull the weapon away. I struggle and manage to free myself from the grasp of the men holding me just long enough to launch myself at the rest of the group, my ill-aimed EMR catching at least one of them in the back of the neck as I tackle another. I try to yell at Elena, to make her run, but she's so smitten with the drug that she can barely keep her eyes open to look at me pleadingly. I stare into her drug darkened eyes and watch them close as she sinks to the floor slowly. She moves at regular speed, but for me all time has slowed so that mere seconds seem like hours.

I struggle to thrust my EMR into the greasy face of the man from the train, hoping that the sparks will ignite the sheen of oil on his face and burn his evil smile to ashes. He grabs my EMR from my hand and tosses it to the ground, brushing it beneath his boot the way I crushed my cigarette only a few hours earlier. "Take him out back."

I watch in helpless horror as the oily man picks Elena up, her head lolling back as her body is lifted. I try to fight back, but my arms feel like lead and I can only manage a few feeble twitches. Anger burns so intensely behind my eyes that I feel my blood boil with it, adrenaline rushing into my system so fast that I barely register it. I struggle harder as the back door to the restaurant closes and the two bastards that hold me seem to have more trouble keeping their grip. I watch my vision succumb to the drug even as my body breaks free of it, my limbs lashing out without my instruction or knowledge as everything turns black.

**

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Author's Note: I'm so sorry this took so long to get up! I've been having trouble with balancing a job, school, and writing lately but hopefully I'm adjusted enough that I can start getting things up faster. Also, sorry for the cliff I've got you hanging over. I did it on purpose but try to refrain from smacking me too hard for it. I need my brain cells for college.


	3. Chapter 3

Gradually the darkness fades and by degrees my drug clouded mind reinstates its control over my sluggish body. The first things I notice are pain, and the vivid realization that I am alive and Elena isn't with me. Before I blacked out I had prayed that I would wake up, but now that I have I keep begging the gods to let me die. My head is throbbing and foul-tasting bile is trying to force its way out of my mouth. I try to swallow it down but the acidic contents of my stomach refuse to return to my digestive system and the fluid starts to choke me. I know that I should roll myself over so that I don't drown in my own vomit, but such a purposeful movement would force me to truly acknowledge the fact that I hadn't been able to protect Elena.

Most of the pain coursing through my system can be easily ignored, but only because there is a more agonizingly sharp sensation highlighting certain parts of my body. The small, cutting pains flaring in my hands, ears, and lip are enough to force out the rest of the fluid slowly filling my mouth and I roll to my side and vomit to the sound of frantic scurrying and weakly pattering rain. The cutting pains cease, leaving behind an acute throbbing and the easily distinguished sensation of bleeding.

I shakily open my eyes and would vomit again if I hadn't just violently emptied my stomach. I quickly and clumsily crawl away from the pool of sick that well-fed rats are eagerly swimming in. I wince in pain as my hands strike the pavement to propel me backwards and the realization of what caused the cutting pains hits me full force. I focus drug clouded eyes on the bleeding wounds covering my hands and press them into my chest to staunch the leaking spots where rats have chewed away bits of skin and muscle. I feel fear and horror clamor for my attention as a hungry rat scurries up to me, lapping hungrily at the bloody drops leaked by my abused body. I squirm farther away from the rats that writhe and squeak happily in puddles of my bodily fluids, wincing as I discover new hurts that have nothing to do with the rats squirming in front of me.

My back hits something warm and I shriek, frightening away a few of the rats that had followed their moving buffet curiously. I whip around to face the warm thing with difficulty; pain, fear, and nausea making me more than a little reluctant to see what I unwittingly touched.

What I see is marginally more horrifying than knowing that I was being eaten alive while I slept.

I can only watch in disgust as one of the men who attacked me tries weakly and vainly to shoo away the rats that swarm happily over his weakened frame. I can only barely distinguish between damage that I must've caused in my blind rage and damage caused by the hungry rats. In some places the two types of injuries overlap and I can only shudder at the intensity of his wounds. A few splintered bones stand out from his skin, grotesquely dripping blood and marrow that writhing rats compete to lap up first. The angrily bleeding sores covering him from head to toe are rapidly made larger by the vermin flocking over his frail body.

I shudder and back away, looking around to try and locate a place with no rats. After my first glance around the alley it's eerily apparent where the rats came from. A large manhole is displaced and the portal to the sewers is an open doorway to the above world for all that live below. Even now rats are flocking in and out of the hole, carrying bits of man and garbage down to the depths and flocking back out in search of more. The two men who had guided me outside had obviously been told to shut me up in the reeking hole and leave me there for the rats to devour in my drug weakened state. I'm fairly sure the poor bastard being eaten alive now is regretting that decision.

As my thoughts turn back to the dying man to my left I remember that two foul-minded idiots had accompanied me to the alley. The cuts on my chest are too wide to have been caused by the small, thin knife peeking out from under the first bastard's fingers. At the same time I realize that the rats scurrying out of the man-hole are going in two directions. I reluctantly follow the path taken by the second line of rats, shivering as I realize why that section of swarm is thinner in number.

My EMR is sparking madly between the disgustingly loose jaws of the second man's corpse and the water still falling from the sky is making the electric pulses stronger. The lifeless body jerks uncontrollably, making the flesh the rats prize move and flail as it cooks to a bloated crisp. I shudder and watch as rats try to capture the moving flesh between their jaws, squeaking with displeasure as sparks singe their fur. I know eventually the battery in my EMR will die, but until then the scent of burning flesh with keep the rats flooding out of the sewers.

I turn my attention back to the dying man as he moans and cries with his pain; begging me to put him out of his misery. I stare at him coldly, relishing his pain as I think of what could be happening to Elena at this moment. It's hard for me to feel sympathy for someone who willingly harmed the person I love, but the pain still shooting out of my hands, lips, and ears makes my heart soften slightly. I crawl to the man, shuddering as rats remember that I'm weak and delicious. They start sniffing at me and a few of the braver ones nip at my hands, but I lash out at the ones that find my taste appealing and they turn their attention back to the easier prey in front of them. I try to repress the dry heaves that threaten to cripple my system as I watch rats carve away portions of muscle and skin happily, their sickening munching noises making the bloody wounds scattered over me twinge with remembered pain.

The man turns pecked-at eyes to me, whimpering and cringing pathetically as he ceases his vain attempts to brush away the rats that swarm over him like flies. His voice is weak and croaks as he tries to shove words past his bleeding lips. As he opens his mouth I can see that rats have even begun to tear apart his tongue in their search for delicate flesh to fill their bellies. "K-Kill me. Please."

I shudder and resist the urge to look away, locking eyes with a man whose torment is now under my control. My instincts as a Turk spring up and I stare at him coldly, shakily picking up the short, thin knife curled under his fingertips. "No."

The man cries harder, not even bothering to wince in pain as a rat pulls a mouthful of skin from his cheek. "P-Please! Just kill m-me! H-have mercy! En-nd it!"

I watch as rats nibble at his bones and feel a sickening pride at the fact that I was able to completely shatter the man while I was practically unconscious. "First you're going to tell me where they took Elena."

The man screams as a rat crawls into his pants and I can only squirm as I imagine what it's eating. "Th-they t-took the girl to a w-w-warehouse outs-side of t-town!" He screams again and his efforts to dislodge the rats resume, this time frantically desperate to remove them. "P-please just k-kill me!"

I wrap my fingers around the knife tightly and flash it before his eyes, cringing as he looks at the blade hungrily. "You will die eventually. Until you tell me everything you know you're going to suffer."

He screams again and rain mingles with the blood on his face. Thankfully the rat crawls out of his pants, chewing happily on a piece of wrinkled and bloody flesh clutched between its paws. I try not to look at the disgusting rodent and brush one of its brethren off of my leg as it tries to chew through my pants. "The w-warehouse is about a m-mile N-North of here! A g-guy c-called R-Rieldes runs the operation. It's w-where all the l-local gangs bring their drugs and w-whores!" A rat takes a viciously large chunk out of his ear and he screams. "P-please man, t-the p-pain! E-end it!"

I growl and toss the knife on the ground, ignoring his suffering pleas as I realize what his words mean. Elena wasn't kidnapped by some anti-Shinra group to be taken gods know where and held for ransom. She was kidnapped by sleazy gang-members who want to turn her into a drug addicted whore. I shakily push myself to my feet, glaring down at the bleeding bastard who is begging me for the merciful death he would not have given me. "Go to hell." I turn and stagger away, kicking a scraggly rat from my path.

The man's screams only increase in volume and I look back only once as his incoherent cries form words for the last time. "I-I'll meet you t-there!" He glares at me and I imagine that I can see Death glaring at me with a cruel smile from deep inside his bloodshot eyes. The moment soon passes as the rat crawls back into his pants, bringing him more agony and forcing another scream past his blood soaked lips.

I shudder and turn around, gripping my chest weakly with one hand and searching my pockets with the other. I find my phone amongst the lint, lighters, and empty cigarette cartons and anxiously press in Rude's number, praying that he will pick up. I don't know how much of the blood that was pooled under my body is mine but as more of the sticky red substance drips into my eyes and runs down my body in thin crimson rivers I know that I am teetering on a perilously thin line between being barely alive and being a walking corpse. The second I hear his even breathing I start crying with relief and pain. "R-Rude, I need h-help!"

I can almost hear Rude blinking with confusion as pain flows freely though my voice. _"Reno?"_

I slump against a wall near the mouth of the alley as my blood deprived legs give out. "Who the f-fuck else?"

In the background I can hear rustling and I know Rude is working diligently on his computer to trace my location. _"What the hell happened?"_

I kick weakly at a persistent rat that had followed the red trail of breadcrumbs I left behind me. "Th-they d-drugged us! T-took Lena! W-we gotta find her R-Rude!"

His breathing catches and I can only imagine what's going through his mind. I know he certainly won't tell me what he's thinking, he rarely ever does. _"I'll be there in five minutes."_

The line goes dead and I drop the phone, focusing all of my remaining energy on the rats that are scurrying along the path of my blood and examining me curiously. I press my back against the wall of the alley and kick out violently, catching a few of the disgusting beasts in their scrunched up toothy faces and getting caught between the teeth of others. I yelp and try to brush the over-eager beasts off of me, only succeeding in reminding them of the delicious flesh covering my hands. I scream as they start scurrying onto me, chewing and gnawing at my clothes and skin. I stand and shake them off unsteadily, falling to my knees as they drip from my body like rain. As they scurry over me I repeat the motion again and again, hoping fervently that I won't lose the strength to stand back up after every painful rat-filled fall.

My knees begin to bleed and the rats eagerly lap the red drops of my life off of the ground. I grab at the filthy things and toss them away from me. My every movement gets weaker as minutes pass like hours and I start crying again as a horrible thought crosses my mind.

What if Rude isn't coming?

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Author's Note: Damn….That was graphic and horrifying. I really hope you guys are sufficiently frightened of rats. I had one measly little nightmare about a rat crawling into my bed and biting me and this entire chapter gets born. You're welcome for another cliffhanger by the way.

**Don't hit me too hard please.**


	4. Chapter 4

As I sat in the back of Rude's car, bleeding and whimpering in pain, I decided that he was my guardian angel. He dragged my filthy, rat-encrusted form from the pool of blood and grime where I lay, threw me over his shoulder, and carted me to safety. Each step he took ensured my survival and the angry tittering of the still-hungry rats bade us farewell as he pulled me from a personal hell that will haunt my nightmares for years to come. There is nothing I can ever do to repay him for that. Luckily for me, Rude and I have saved each others lives enough times to drop the debts associated with such acts.

I don't remember a word he said to me during the unbearably long ride home, but I remember the tone of his voice and the flashing lights that let me know how many laws he was breaking in order to get me to safety. Laws don't really apply to Turks anyways, but it is a rather humbling thought to know that your best friend is willing to forgo the safety of him and others to keep you safe. The only downside to that is that eventually the police try to shoot out his tires because they seem to think it's their job and he has to make half the drive to the hospital with two flats after he manages to run them off the road. That's one thing I hate about police. They think every driver who breaks the law is reckless.

Now I lay in a Shinra hospital bed with more needles in my arms than a heroin addict. I closely resemble a porcupine and if my arms weren't restrained I would rip all of the upsettingly uncomfortable things off and fling them across the room. That's probably why my arms and legs are tied down. I vaguely remember trying to rip out the needles while yelling that I had to go save Elena. Unfortunately no one would listen to me because I was so half-crazed with pain and fear that my tongue wouldn't form words right so they tied me down, stuck the needles back in my arms, and shoved drugs into my system. That's one thing I hate about hospitals. No one ever listens to the guy covered in blood who looks like he's having a psychotic episode.

I can hear rustling beside me and strain to get my drug dampened muscles to move my head so I can figure out what's making the damned annoying sound. I eventually get my head to turn and see Rude sitting in a chair beside me with a crinkled magazine in his hands. He has bags under his bloodshot eyes and his normally neatly trimmed face has a small suggestion of hair coating his cheeks. Even though he's doing his best to act relaxed, I know he isn't. His eyes aren't traveling across the pages before he turns them and his nostrils are flared slightly. Something is troubling him, and I have a feeling that it's not just the fact that I'm in the hospital.

Rude looks at me and closes the out-dated magazine, setting it to the side as he pulls his chair closer to my bedside. "How are you feeling?"

I somehow manage to make my tongue work, but the answer to his question is not the first thing to spring from my lips. "Gotta save Lena! We gotta go get her!"

Rude sighs and nods, "I know, Reno. We've been looking for her."

I struggle against my restraints feebly, but I make no progress towards moving. "I know where she is! We gotta go now before it's too late!"

"Keep that knowledge under your hat for a bit Reno. I promise we'll get her, but right now there are more important things for you to worry about." Rude gently starts pulling out the needles littering my arms, applying pressure on the small spurts of blood that burst from each opening as I stare at him in confusion.

"What do you mean more important things? What's more important than Elena right now?" My voice is soft and my words are slow. I hate being drugged and I've been drugged one too many times today. I look down and notice that I'm not covered in bandages, only needles. I somewhat remember bright green flashes that suggest materia use, but if they fixed me with materia I shouldn't have needles in my arms. Then I remember that I'm drugged to high heaven and growl softly as I realize that from the moment I entered the hospital they've been trying to keep me comatose.

"If you want to save her we've got to keep you alive. We haven't received a demand for a ransom yet and it's been almost two days. They probably haven't figured out she's a Turk yet. I don't know if that is a good thing or not, but it's probably better for her if they think she's just a regular woman. They'll underestimate her that way." Rude starts releasing the restraints tying me down and looks at me sternly. "Don't move until I tell you to. I have more to explain before we get the hell out of here."

I blink at Rude in confusion and nod slowly, keeping my arms and legs still as my bonds are removed. The fact that they have had me drugged senseless for two days feeds a knot of anger festering in my chest and I frown as I try to comprehend what is happening. "What's going on?"

"A folder arrived on my desk this morning. Your name was written in red." Rude sets a hand on my arm as I begin shivering in fear. "I'm not going to kill you, but the President ordered Tseng to have you killed. I know you have had nothing to do with the recent kidnappings, but no one will hear a word I say in the matter. They all think you're working as a spy for a terrorist group and if I haven't killed you by noon Tseng is going to come do it himself."

I tremble violently with anger and fear. I know why Tseng is so willing to have me done in. He told me not to get close to Elena, and I disobeyed. I knew that the consequence he mentioned for my disobedience was death, but I didn't think the order for my annihilation would come so soon. Tseng is willing to kill me and he thinks that Rude is too, but he didn't count on Rude's disobedience. In all his years as a Turk Rude has never disobeyed an order. Not once. "What are we going to do?"

"I'm getting us the hell out of here. Remember our escape plan?" I nod and Rude smiles softly. "We're putting that plan into action." After the first elimination order Rude and I received for a fellow Turk we knew that someday one of us would get a folder with the other's name on it. We decided then that we had to think of a way to desert the company without getting killed.

"Now?" I look around the room for a clock, noticing that with each passing minute noon is getting closer and I am getting stronger. I quickly thank Gaia that Rude pulled the drug-feeding needles out of my arms.

"No. We have to wait until he gets here. I need to try to change his mind one more time and if I can't…I need time to figure out what I'll do then." Rude sighs and picks up the magazine he put to the side and starts flipping through it again. "Act like you're still asleep and tied down until I give you the signal."

I nod and close my eyes, focusing all my thoughts on what Rude and I will have to do once noon rears its ugly head and forces us to attempt the impossible. The ticking of the clock slowly drives me insane as I try to keep track of the seconds and minutes that pass by far too quickly for my liking.

I'm almost at my wits end when I hear footsteps echoing down the hall towards the open door of my hospital room. I quickly even out my breathing and force all of my nerve-tensed muscles to relax, shivering slightly as I hear Rude sigh and close his magazine. The echoing footsteps mingle with the ticking of the clock and I can feel my sanity unraveling as they set up a rhythm that matches my heartbeat. Each beat of my heart could be my last if Rude and I don't succeed, and each footstep and tick only lower the number of future heartbeats I expect to have.

I keep my ears open and my eyes shut as the footsteps stop inside the room. I hear Rude stand and approach Tseng, I have no doubt that the person who ominously walked down the hall is the man who wants to kill me. "Do we have to do this?"

Tseng sighs and responds quietly so that I have to strain to hear him. "Yes. We've got no choice, Rude. It's either him or us. You know the President won't feel like something has been done until someone is dead."

Rude growls softly and I struggle to keep my eyes closed as tension electrifies the air. "Elena possibly being dead isn't enough?"

I force my breathing to remain consistent as my heart hammers in my chest at Rude's words. I haven't even thought of the possibility of Elena being dead. I've thought of her being tortured, raped, drugged, and beaten, but not dead. Elena being dead is a thought I can't handle, so I hastily force it out of my head and I focus my attention on the life or death situation in front of me. "Rude, I'm not the one who gives the orders. I just follow them. You know that."

Rude sighs and I hear a strangely metallic rustling in their direction that makes my heart skip a beat. "It doesn't have to be this way, Tseng."

"Yes it does." A metallic click echoes quietly through the room and my eyes shoot open in time to see Tseng level his gun at me. Rude slams Tseng against the wall just as his finger flexes on the trigger and the bullet passes through my shoulder instead of my heart. I scream in pain and jump from the bed with my hand over the bleeding, throbbing spot as I watch Rude and Tseng in fear.

Tseng's eyes are wide in angry shock as Rude rips the gun from his surprise slackened hand. Rude has never disobeyed an order, nor has he ever done anything to keep someone else from following one. Now he has Tseng pressed against the wall by his throat and has turned the gun meant to kill me against him. I stare in shock that matches Tseng's as Rude presses the gun into Tseng's jaw. "No it doesn't."

Tseng blinks and for the first time in my life I see real fear shinning in his eyes. "Are you going to kill me instead, Rude?" A long moment of silence stretches behind those words and I can see the fear in Tseng's eyes increase with each tick of the clock. I can almost hear the thoughts passing through his head, because they are undoubtedly the same ones I was thinking only minutes ago as he strode down the hall with death in his hands.

"No." Rude presses the gun into Tseng's shoulder and fires, leaving a hole in his shoulder that is almost identical to the hole in mine.

Tseng gasps in pain but doesn't let out the scream I did, instead glaring at Rude with a fiery intensity he has never shown before. I shiver in fear as Tseng growls at Rude with unmaskable pain and fury. "You will pay dearly for that."

Rude nods, "I don't doubt that." He cracks the handle of the pistol against Tseng's head, drawing blood and knocking Tseng unconscious. He lets Tseng slide to the floor and I watch open-mouthed as Tseng drips blood onto the tile floor below him. Rude sighs and tucks Tseng's gun into his jacket, "Let's go, Reno."

I nod and shakily walk towards Rude, eyes fixated on Tseng. My hand is clenched tightly over the gaping hole in my shoulder and I look at the hole in Tseng that is bleeding freely onto the floor as blood flows over my fingers just as quickly. Rude grips my upper arm gently and leads me away from our unconscious ex-comrade, eyes purposefully avoiding the blood splattered against the wall as we begin our race from the hospital. With each tick of that godforsaken clock in the corner our fates are sealed and we walk calmly from the hospital without meeting any resistance. We are dead men, and every doctor, nurse, and patient that passes us knows it.

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Author's Note: Wow….what up with the bloodshed eh? I'm getting so gory in this fic! Isn't it wonderful?


	5. Chapter 5

We took so many twists and turns in Rude's car that I couldn't keep up, especially when I was trying to pull the bullet from my shoulder. Anyone who has ever been shot can testify to the excruciating pain that works through your body and makes your hands shake and your eyelids flutter, but I can almost guarantee that person can't testify to the pain of trying to remove that bullet with shaking hands, unfocusable eyes, and inadequate tools. Rude's first aid kit was stocked with everything needed to treat burns, cuts, and poisoning, but there wasn't a damn thing that could make ripping the bullet out of my shoulder any easier.

I made quite a mess.

Now I'm sitting in a musty hotel bed, rolling the blood soaked bullet through my hands, and wincing as Rude uses materia to heal the ragged hole in my shoulder. I thank Gaia for magic everyday of my life. Neither Rude nor I can sew well and the thought of the painful enough wound being torn apart by clumsy fingers as it gets stitched shut isn't an appealing one. We've had to stitch ourselves together before, and the scars are not pretty.

I do my best to stay still as Rude prods healing magic into my arm, chasing away the last of the pain as my tender nerves are magically stitched together. As my body's protests begin to silence, my hands stop shaking and my head clears. The bullet rolling through my hands gets more and more of my mental attention as my body quiets and I struggle to cope with the idea that Tseng had meant the small piece of lead to pierce through my heart. Death isn't someone I like to think about, but I came dangerously close to meeting him again today; except this time I would not have been handing him one of my victims, I would have been handing him myself.

Rude sighs and wipes his bloody hands on my ruined hospital gown. "Reno, I need to go find us some supplies. We won't get far on what I've got in the car. I'll try to get all our cash out of the bank before they freeze our assets. Do you need anything besides clothes and food?"

I nod and lay back on the bed, examining the bullet in the weak yellow light cast by the fluorescent bulbs above us. The bullet winks at me and I resist the urge to wink back. "See what you can dig up on a guy called Rieldes. I don't know if that's his real name, but it's the only starting point we've got."

Rude blinks at me, his eyes trained on the bullet shinning crimson and silver in my fingers. "He's the one who took Elena isn't he?"

I nod, feeling pain lance through my heart at her name. I've been trying hard not to think about her, it's habitual by now to try and keep her from my thoughts, but her name alone brings back painful memories. The greasy bastard flirting with her on the train, the warmth of her lips seeping into my cheek, the giggle she got from how I choked on my drink, the frightened look on her face as we realized we had been drugged…

Rude sighs and slips his sunglasses on, a sign that he is about to leave and about to try and bash an unwelcome idea through my thick skull. "Reno, if they know she's a Turk they've probably killed her already."

I sit up and chuck the bloody bullet at him. Hard. "Dammit Rude! Don't say shit like that! Don't you dare give up on her! If they knew she was a Turk they woulda taken her to that shit-filled rat-infested alley they tried to off me in!"

Rude lets the bullet bounce off of his shirt. It leaves a small red smudge behind and he watches it roll under the bed in silence. I half expect him to chastise me for my childish hopes; being a Turk is a death sentence in itself and when our captors find out it shortens our life-expectancy drastically. I know that whatever words are running through his head right now, being processed and specifically chosen to elicit an intense emotional response designed to make me think, will not be filled with anger or derision. They'll be coated in disappointment and sadness.

Rude raises his eyes from the floor and gives me a pitying look that makes me feel like I'm five and being chastised for stealing again. I feel my heart wring itself in self-pity as memories of my childhood surface at that thought, but I keep my face hard, challenging whatever words he will dare to accompany with that look.

He sighs and shakes his head at my determined glare, making unreasonable anger boil in my chest. "Don't get your hopes too high, Reno. Remember Len."

The stopper was pulled from my festering pool of anger and it drained away as quickly as it came. I watched Rude leave and frowned as my mind began racing with unpleasant memories. We never mention Len. Never. He's not someone we like to think too hard about. Not when our last memory of him is so unpleasant.

I retrieve the bullet from under the bed and crawl under the covers sadly, frowning as it winks and laughs in my hand. It seems the only memories I have left in me are painful ones, and Rude's words drag out the worst of them.

Len was a Turk with us, and he was one of my first friends. Len introduced me to Rude and from that moment on the three of us were nearly inseparable. The problem with being inseparable is when you're forced to separate.

Rude and I haven't figured out why Len got himself into the mess he did, but we've never forgiven ourselves for being ignorant enough to not notice he was in trouble. We didn't notice until he got sick. He was violently ill and wouldn't tell us why, even when we held his short blonde hair back and watched him vomit up the oily black contents of his stomach or bandaged the strange and oozing sores that popped up on his back seemingly overnight. We did everything we could think of to help him recover, but he only got worse with each attempt at a remedy. We tried to send him to the labs to get fixed, but at the mere mention of Shinra's darkened basement rooms he would pale and shake his head, insisting that his illness wasn't a problem.

As Len got worse in secret, a notice went out in public. Something had been stolen from the very labs Len refused to go to. At the time Rude and I were so stressed over fixing Len that we didn't put the pieces together, but now I'm absolutely sure he was the one responsible for the theft. I still don't know what he stole or why, but it wasn't something that should have existed in the first place.

While Rude and I fretted over Len, someone else put the puzzle pieces together for us.

It was soon after that that Rude and I got our first red named assignments.

A door slams and I wake up, bolting upright in bed and lobbing the bullet in my hand at the intruder removing his shoes in the doorway. Rude catches it this time. "You're supposed to shoot bullets, Reno, not throw them."

I laugh shakily as he sets a few bags by the door and shrugs off a jacket he didn't leave with. I don't remember falling asleep, but I do remember dreaming. I didn't have pleasant dreams. They were filled with Len and his strange illness; Elena being carried away from me, limp and helpless; sharp teeth cutting into my skin and ripping away chunks of my flesh; Rude pulling the trigger and letting Tseng slide to the floor in a pool of black, fast-flowing blood. Except, after Rude shot him, Tseng wasn't Tseng anymore; he was Len, smiling and thanking us for what we did as his eyes struggled to focus on our tear-streaked faces.

I hate dreaming.

Rude crawls under the blankets to rest on the other side of the bed. He sniffs and looks at me with disgust. "You didn't even bother to shower, Reno?"

I look down at my blood crusted self and laugh, "The answer to that one is obvious, pal."

Rude chuckles and sets the bullet on the three-legged nightstand propped against the wall beside our bed. I can tell we're somewhere in the slums now, even if I don't know what sector. Hotels in slums only have one bed and the furniture is usually broken or missing. This was once a nice place, I can tell by the peeling and faded wallpaper that someone put effort into trying to make this place look presentable, but the cigarette burns on the floor and the bullet holds in the couch take away from the class of this dump.

I sigh at our dismal surroundings and try to decipher the words in the graffiti on the walls. "What did you get done?"

Rude stretches and yanks a pillow out from under my head, claiming it as his own. I laugh and don't bother to get it back. I don't even remember stacking the moth-eaten things under my head, but two of them aren't much more comfortable than one. "I got us some food, pulled all the money from our accounts, pumped some locals for information, traded cars with a slummer happy for the upgrade, traded license plates with two different cars, grabbed clothes from our apartments, and narrowly avoided getting my head blown off by some Turk trainee they've got looking in on our apartments every hour. I couldn't recognize her, but she was very pretty. She'd be right up my alley if I wasn't a fugitive hiding out with a blood-soaked and unhygienic alcoholic."

I laugh and roll my eyes, "You'll get your chance with her ya fugitive. Maybe Tseng won't kill you for shooting him if we bring Elena back safe and sound."

Rude smiles and shrugs, "Tseng will probably shoot me back. Then we'll all have matching scars."

I smile and nuzzle into the blankets, surprisingly tired after the long nap I just took and the several days of drugged sleep I had prior to that. "So what information did you find?"

Rude sighs and sets his sunglasses on the nightstand beside my bullet. "Nothing good. Rieldes has quite the nasty reputation. He and his gang pick pretty women traveling alone and kidnap them. Then he takes them back to his hideout and turns them into drug addicted whores."

I shiver despite the lack of new information. "I knew that already. Anything else?"

Rude nods and continues, staring at the ceiling. "Apparently the drugs he gives them are cut with mako. He cuts it with mako to make it last longer and because mako makes the women's breasts larger. They don't get stronger though, they get weaker. Once mako poisoning sets in he kills them. Some of the luckier ones get sold to local pimps, but he keeps the prettiest for himself."

I feel my spine quiver at the mention of mako. "How the hell does he even get mako? Shinra controls the supply!"

Rude sighs and gives me his 'shut-up-and-let-me-finish' look. "Apparently Rieldes has a deal with Corneo, and Corneo has someone inside Shinra that's leaking him information. His informant warps the records to make it look like Shinra mined less mako than they actually did. He sends the excess to Corneo, and Corneo sells it to Rieldes."

I growl softly and the thin blanket threatens to tear under my hands. "How did we miss that? Why don't we know about this guy? Someone who's kidnapping that many girls _has_ to be on our radar!"

Rude frowns and sets a gentle hand on my shoulder as the fabric I'm holding tears, unable to stand the tension I put it under. "Corneo is responsible for that too. He's been keeping this guy off the radar and making it look like the girls are being turned into Honeybee's. He gets a cut of Rieldes' drug and prostitution profits."

I drop the blanket and glare at the ceiling as Rude moves his hand away. "So we start with Corneo?"

Rude nods and rolls onto his side, facing the wall. "We start with Corneo."

**

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Author's Note: So sorry this took so long to get up readers! I didn't forget you; I've just been having issues with time. I think the government should pass a law that changes the nature of the universe so that there are seven to eight extra hours in each day.

**That'd be nice….**


	6. Chapter 6

When we woke up this morning, we immediately started working on our first problem for the day; getting into Corneo's mansion. The lecherous bastard only lets girls and his goons in and fortunately or unfortunately for us we aren't girls or goons. Rude has a solution to that problem though, and I'm ready to beat his ass for it.

"I am not wearin' a fuckin' dress!" I frown and pace, hair still dripping from the shower Rude forced me to take. It's not that I didn't want to be clean; I just didn't want my hair to be wet. I _hate_ it when my hair is wet.

Rude sighs and holds up a dress he had failed to mention the night before. "I went through all the trouble of snatching it from Elena's apartment and dodged bullets to get the damned thing, you're fucking wearing it!"

"You dodged the fuckin' bullets, you wear it!" I kick the bed angrily, scattering a few cockroaches that had been happily gnawing at the leg of the bed. I shudder and stomp on them, taking out my anger on their disgusting little bodies.

Rude snorts and tosses the short black dress at me, "Yeah, that'll work 'cause Corneo wants a big, bald, black dude. I can't even fit in the dress."

I catch it despite my reluctance to touch it and stop my angry stomping to face him. "What the hell makes you think I'll be able to pull this disguise off?"

Rude grins and points at my dripping hair, "You've got long hair, you're scrawny enough to fit in it, and after we stuff a couple of oranges into the bra I snatched for you you'll have a nice enough rack to make him forget how goddamned ugly you are."

I snort with laughter and throw the dress at his face, "Bastard! You weren't supposed to make it funny!"

Rude laughs and catches the dress easily, "Go shave your legs sasquatch. Corneo may be willing to overlook your face, but he won't overlook your man-hair legs."

I sigh and reluctantly cart myself to the bathroom, snuffing out the lives of a few more roaches as I go. "I'm using your razor!" Rude chuckles and I slam the bathroom door shut behind me, knocking loose a few small chunks of moldy drywall. This hotel didn't look disease ridden last night. This morning I'm hoping that I didn't catch any odd fungal diseases from the bed. Rude and I found mold under the sheets when we pulled them back to try and figure out what had been snacking on our skin last night. Bed bugs and mold make for a very uncomfortable bed.

I snatch Rude's razor and shaving cream from the sink and shrug out of my pants. As I sit on the edge of the tub my leg hair begs me to let it stay, but I slather it with shaving cream and ignore its pleas. With each pass of the razor I carve away hair and flesh, leaving small red lines across my legs where I pushed the razor too hard or too soft. I swear and mumble loudly as I shave away my manly leg hair, resisting the urge to toss the razor down in favor of punching Rude in the face. I don't know what made him think that my bloody, mangled looking, hairless legs will make me look like a girl. Personally I don't find my cuts, scrapes, and razor burn attractive at all.

Rude knocks on the door and I curse loudly as the unexpected noise frightens the razor so badly that it parts flesh from my thigh. "Dammit Rude!"

Rude chuckles, "Shave your pits while you're in there. By the way, you're not supposed to cut yourself."

I toss the can of shaving cream at the door and yell at him, "This isn't fucking easy!"

I hear Rude laugh and walk off and grumble to myself as I finish carving off the last of my leg hair. My armpit hair gets carved away afterwards and I grumble loudly with pain and humiliation as I towel off my bloody, hairless spots. I feel naked even after I tug my pants back on.

I walk back into the main room of the hotel and glower at Rude angrily, "How the hell does _this_," I pull up my pants leg to show him a bloody, hairless ankle, "look sexy!"'

Rude laughs and tosses his cure materia at me. "It'll look better once you seal up the cuts. I told you to shave your legs, not butcher them."

I catch the materia and immediately use it to heal my stinging legs and armpits. "Shut the hell up, baldy. Why can't we just go in there and kick the shit out of people until they tell us what we want to know?"

Rude rolls his eyes, acting like my question is a stupid one. "That's Soldier talk, Reno. We're Turks. Turks go in quietly and _then_ kick the shit out of people until they tell us what we need to know."

I pocket his materia, "We're not Turks anymore; we're fugitives. Fugitives do what they want and don't get caught."

Rude starts digging through the bags he brought in last night, "You won't get caught if you act like a fugitive and a Turk."

I sit on the bed and try to ignore the naked feeling my legs are sending me. "So fellow fugitive, what's our plan?"

Rude tosses food at me and smiles, "We're going after Corneo, stupid."

We discuss and fine-tune our plan, crafting it carefully. We don't have back-up, we don't have time, and we don't have authority. The only things we have are each other and the few bags of oddities Rude procured for us last night. Every Turk and Turk-trainee in Midgar will be looking for us, along with whistle-blower citizens who want to earn whatever reward money they will get for turning us in. If everything goes right with our plan we won't need to worry about any of the dogs Shinra sent after us. If things go wrong…I don't even want to think about what will happen.

We wait until it's almost dark out to put our plan into action. Rude is wearing normal street clothes and I'm in Elena's obnoxiously revealing dress that we've stuffed with oranges. If she could see me now she'd probably die laughing, if she hasn't died already. I do my best to keep those types of thoughts out of my head as we walk towards Corneo's mansion, swinging my hips with difficulty and struggling to balance in stupidly uncomfortable black shoes. The assholes who design women's shoes should go to hell.

No one seems to notice us at first; we pass through Wall Market without causing a scene. Soon enough though, I start getting cat-called by drunken bastards who can't see the difference between a woman and a cross-dresser. Rude chuckles softly and elbows me gently, "You've got fans, Red."

I frown and try not to fall over, "Shut the hell up, Rude. I still don't think this is gonna work."

Rude frowns back, "It won't work unless you actually try to make it work, shit head. Try to sound like a girl."

I clear my throat and raise the pitch of my voice, "You're a jerk. You know that, right?"

Rude smiles and nods, "I know that Allie, just try not to fuck this up, okay?"

I nod and internally curse the name he gave me. Rude seems to be enjoying himself at my expense and I don't blame him. I did ruin his life, just a little bit. I took him from a stable job and clean home to the mold-ridden life of a fugitive. It only took me one day to ruin all he had worked for.

I look around as we walk, lost in my own self-loathing. Suddenly, a face pops out of the crowd, a face that makes my heart stop cold. Oily hair and greasy skin shine in the lamp-light of a peddler's cart. I stop in the middle of the street, ignoring Rude's annoying attempts to make me move forward. Sleazeball turns and our eyes meet. His lips curl into a small smile; mine do the same. He doesn't recognize me, my tattoos are covered, my hair is down, and I'm not dressed like a guy. His smile says to me and everyone else around, _"I can tap that."_ My smug, twisted smile says a lot of things, and one of them is, _"If I get him alone I can see if his guts are as greasy as the rest of him."_

Thankfully, Rude pulls me to the side before Sleazeball can get his act together and decide what to do and before I can grab the pocketknife from my bra and stab the bastard's face in. Rude drags me down a small, empty alley, one that reminds me far too much of the alley he had rescued me from. A rat scampers away from us as Rude drags me in and shakes me softly, whispering angrily, "What the hell, Reno! What's wrong with you!"

I blink at him and push his hands away, whispering back, "That was _him_, Rude! That was the bastard who took her!"

Rude blinks and stares at me, "Reno, we can't ditch the whole plan!"

I growl and set my hands on my hips, not bothering to whisper anymore, "Like hell we can't! If you expect me to just sit here when I know that following him will let me find her you're fuckin' insane!"

Rude opens his mouth to retort, but stops, looking at the mouth of the alley and turning a pale shade of grey. I blink and follow his gaze, feeling color drain from my own face as I spy the silhouette standing there.

Tseng walks up to us, hands folded behind his back. His face is grim and etched with frown lines. "I thought I trained you better than this."

Rude gapes like a fish, unable to reply. I, however, don't know how to keep my mouth shut. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Tseng frowns at me and shakes his head, "A girl was kidnapped and the first place you go is Corneo's. Original. So original, in fact, that I thought of looking there too. She's not there."

I roll my eyes, "No shit. We knew she wouldn't be there."

Tseng blinks at me and looks me over, eyes scanning me from head to toe. I suddenly feel like I'm being x-rayed and the status of my internal organs will decide whether I get shot again or not. I hope to the gods he doesn't look at my liver. "If you knew she wouldn't be there, why are you here?"

I keep my eyes on his hands as I answer, confused by the lack of bullets piercing my skin. He hasn't even drawn his gun. Tseng is most dangerous when he refuses to show you his hands. "I need to pump Corneo for information on a man named Rieldes. He's the one who has Elena."

Tseng nods and pulls his hands from behind his back. Rude has his gun pointing at Tseng's throat before Tseng can straighten his elbows. Tseng frowns at Rude and they stare each other down, each daring the other to make a move. If Rude shoots Tseng now, it will be a kill shot. However, Tseng is known for having odd things hidden in odder places and if he decides that Rude is really going to shoot him, he could blow us all up before the bullet finished slicing through the top layer of his skin. That's one thing I've never liked about my fellow Turks. They're scary as shit.

Rude and Tseng stare at each other for a few seconds more, having a quick and precise mental conversation where they both decide they can't win. Rude lowers his gun and Tseng straightens his arm, handing me a small black disk no bigger than my pinky-nail. I turn it over in my hands and frown at the Shinra logo stamped into the back. "A homing device? We're fugitives and you want me to willingly agree to let you keep tabs on our location?"

Tseng hands Rude a homing device, "If I know where you are, I can help you. I know you two have more information on what's happening to Elena than I do. I haven't found anything. I'm doing this to try and help you save her. The second you know where she is, I'll know where she is."

I frown at Tseng, trying to process what he's trying to do. Before my mind wraps around the concept in full, however, I see Sleazebag pass the entrance of our alley. I drop the device into my bra and go after him, not bothering with any parting words. Rude knows who I'm going after, and he stays put. His presence would only get in my way and he knows it.

I hope Tseng didn't subtly plant bombs on us. I'd rather not get blown to bits while wearing a dress in the middle of Wall Market as I chase the slimy bastard who took Elena. I've got no doubt that I'll find her now. Sleazebag is leaving an oily trail that will lead me straight to her.

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**Author's Note: Well, it's been awhile since I updated. Thankfully I've got more time to write during the holidays. **

**Sorry I haven't been reading and reviewing lately, I've been busy as hell. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviews, you're input and ego-boosting comments are appreciated! **


	7. Chapter 7

Sleazebag leads me through Wall Market, knowing that I'm watching and following and doing what he can to keep me interested. He thinks I'm just another whore looking for someone to dig gil out of, but he's wrong. I'm a murderous dickhead who wants to skin him alive. He buys things that I know interest local whores, and I jump on the chance to approach him when he intentionally slows and starts looking through his merchandise. As I close in, I take the homing device out of my bra and swallow it; nothing makes a whore look more attractive than pill popping. Drug use equals easy and sleazy; things that every man wants to see in a whore. Hopefully Tseng had the device turned on when he gave it to me; I'd hate to think I just swallowed an inactive device with the thought that Tseng would have better luck tracking me when it was imbedded in my internal organs.

Sleazebag watches me from the corner of his eye as I approach, examining me like livestock. I raise my voice and try to act sultry and promiscuous, hoping that I didn't just fail horribly at it. "Hey, sugar, shoppin' for your girlfriend?" He shuts his bag and turns to face me and I have to hold my hands behind my back to keep from wrapping them around his greasy throat. "'Course ya aren't, a stud like you wouldn't tie himself down like that, would he?"

Sleazebag chuckles and walks closer, bag of expensives lowered to his waist. "No, I suppose I wouldn't. If you think I'm too good for a girlfriend, why show interest?"

I smirk and clench my hands as I spit out words in Allie's voice; I've decided to keep the name Rude gave me. It helps me stay in character. "A girl can be interested in what she can't have, can't she?"

Sleazebag hums and I shudder as he looks me over. Now I know how girls feel when they get hit on by a creep. I suddenly make a vow to go apologize to every girl I've had a one night stand with, even cat lady. "I suppose a girl can, but you're not a girl. You're quite the woman, hmm?"

For a moment, I was afraid his greasy eyes had already sliced their way through my disguise, but I giggled in mock flattery anyways. "Glad you noticed, cowboy."

Sleazebag hums softly and raises a slicked eyebrow that probably irritates his eyes, I know having that much grease near my eyes makes them water in pain. "I thought I was your stud?"

I'm sure Allie would be intrigued by the 'your' he used, but Reno is repulsed, especially by what he's about to say next. I resist the urge to wrinkle my nose as I spit out my next high pitched reply. "It doesn't matter, both can be ridden."

That statement grabs his attention better than the oranges in my bra do and he flushes for a moment before setting a hand on my elbow. "Would you like to join me for a while? I have a few errands left to run for my boss, but I'd _love_ to spend more time discussing this with you."

I resist the urge to shirk from his touch and instead allow him to make me his arm candy. I'll need another shower when all of this is over; actually, make that three showers. "Of course I'll join you."

Sleazebag wraps one oily arm around my waist and tugs me forward. I'm not sure what girls are supposed to do in a situation like this, but I improvise and bat my eyelashes at him, keeping my hands to myself. "So where do you work? If your boss is letting you run his personal errands you must be very important to him."

Sleazebag rubs my hip as we walk and grins at me, eyes devouring my face. "I guess you could say I'm in sales."

I hope we get to a secluded spot where I can beat information out of him soon, because I'm fairly sure I'm going to vomit all over Elena's pretty dress. I will never, ever, allow her to wear this now that it's been tainted by Sleazebag's hands. "Oh? What kind of sales?"

Sleazebag coughs softly and worries his lip. "I guess you could say I sell livestock."

I growl inside my head at those words but keep my eyelashes fluttering. "Oh? That sounds interesting. I'm in sales myself. I guess you could call me an anatomical saleswoman."

Sleazebag grins and pulls me closer, putting his greasy face dangerously close to mine. "Mind if I make a purchase?"

I smirk and toss my hair vainly. "Do you think I would have approached you if I wasn't interested in letting you buy something?"

Sleazebag chuckles and leads me down an unfortunately populated street. "I guess not. Women like you don't talk to a man for no reason."

I smile and toy with my hair. "No, not really. Of course, every woman has the same goal in the end, ya know?"

Sleazebag chuckles and nods, leading me towards a car, "I guess so." He opens the door and lets me into the passenger seat, grinning as the dress slides up my legs when I sit down.

I watch him get into the drivers seat with a smug grin. I've got him alone, now I just have to get him somewhere without people. As he starts driving, I doubt that that will happen, but when we hit open road and start traveling north I realize where we're going. He's taking me to the warehouse, exactly where I want to go. I blink in confusion, playing the part. "Where are we going?"

Sleazebag keeps his eyes on the road and locks the doors, an ominous sign that I know is meant to be threatening. "Why? Do you have a pimp to report to?"

I shake my head and frown, "No, I work for myself and no one else. Why share my hard earned money with some nasty asshole?"

Sleazebag chuckles darkly and reaches into the dress, popping out one of the oranges and biting into it roughly. "Because you've got no choice now, dickhead. You may be one of the most convincing cross-dressers I've ever seen, but you lack the proper amount of curves to be a girl. Sorry, pal, but you're going to whore your gay ass out for my boss now."

Sleazebag is a better actor than I could have ever given him credit for. Even if he wasn't fooled the whole time, he sure acted like it. I guess all of those look-overs were penis-checks. I sigh and pull the other orange out of my dress, lowering my voice to its normal timbre as I bite into the orange, spitting a mouthful of peel onto the floor. "Damn, most guys are fooled until the dress comes off."

Sleazebag eats his orange and spits peel at my feet. "Not this guy. I've had enough hookers to know which ones have dicks and which ones don't. You've got a nice enough ass to rake in money, so I won't shoot you like I do the others. If you try to run away though, you're going to be full of lead, understood?"

I nod and munch the orange, acting nonchalant as I re-evaluate my plan. "Yeah, yeah the normal shit rules; no runnin' off, no keepin' money, keep yourself disease free, do what I say, blah, blah, blah. I've worked for enough dickheads to know how this goes, pal. Why do you think I tired working for myself?"

Sleazebag chuckles and wipes his mouth on his sleeve, staining the white cotton orange. I'm surprised it wasn't already stained yellow with grease. "You better get that cocky mouth of yours in order; Rieldes doesn't like mouthy whores unless they're mouthing him."

I roll my eyes and reach into the dress as the warehouse comes into view, tugging out my pocket knife and flicking it open quietly. Sleazebag notices the motion, however, and tosses the orange at my face, splattering juice across my cheek and eyes. "Think twice, pal."

I blink stinging orange juice out of my eyes and stab his hand as he reaches towards the glove box, probably for a gun. The car swerves slightly and I use Sleazebag's momentary distraction to slam my orange into his eyes, grinning as the car swerves more. I slam my heeled foot onto the brake and stab him in the throat repeatedly, glad that we're far enough away from the warehouse for our scuffle to go unnoticed. Sleazebag tries to grip my neck, but his greasy fingers can't find purchase on my skin as I stab him violently. When the lights in his eyes go out I keep stabbing, intent on destroying recognizable features; I can't stand looking at his face.

As blood gushes from his face and neck, I realize that my plan won't work anymore as it is; my entire disguise is ruined by the lack of oranges. Even if there is blood on my dress it won't matter if I haven't got any breasts to flaunt. I pull greasy fingers off my neck and get off Sleazebag before his blood drips down far enough to stain more than my fingers and face. Elena depends on my impromptu plan working, and I'm not going to disappoint her. I start searching through his pockets, looking for an ID and grinning when I find it. I hum and turn off the car's headlights before they attract unwanted attention and use Julius' limp foot to press the gas pedal as I steer the car off the road and into the nearby woods.

Once I feel that I've driven far enough away I stop the car. I wipe my knife off on Sleazebag's sleeve and start searching through the bag of things he bought, hoping that I wasn't mistaken when I saw him buy things. To my delight, I wasn't wrong. At that peddler's cart where I had first spotted him, he had picked up a mixed bag of fruit, and inside were two oranges.

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Author's Note: Wooo! Sleazebag is dead! I shan't stop referring to that bastard as Sleazebag because it's the most fitting term I could think of for such a lowlife. Sorry this update took so long, lately I've been absolutely horrible about updates. I've got too much of life slamming my head into the desk for me to get anything done.


	8. Chapter 8

After I re-stuff my bra and rinse the blood off my hands in a nearby stream, I start snatching things from Sleazebag's corpse. I'm not above pocket picking and since this guy has enough weapons in his car and on his person to arm a small militia he might just have enough weapons to do me some good. Too bad I'm not going to be able to take his guns; they're too messy for me to be sneaky. When I kill these men I don't want to leave a lot of blood evidence on walls; bullets tend to blow bits of brain and guts in all directions and I just don't have the time to screw with mess hiding. When I finish stripping anything of value off of Julius, a.k.a. Sleazebag, I sprint out of the woods as fast as my heeled feet can take me.

I trip about fifteen times before I make it out of the dark woods, but once I'm in the moonlight I find enough of my bearings to run towards the warehouse without any further trouble. Now I really look like a train wreck; there's mud splattered up to the hem of the dress and all over my hands and arms where I caught my fall before I could face-plant into the mud. I think up a story quickly as I sprint towards the entrance, working up some tears to make myself look worse. The guards at the front of the warehouse spot me and I resist the urge to grin as they don't bother pulling guns on me, faces full of concern for the 'damsel in distress' running towards them like 'her' life depends on it. Unfortunately, their lives depend on their reactions and they seal their fates by taking me by the elbows and leading me inside.

The guards seem upset by my crying; I can tell because one of them slaps me. If this is how they treat women then it's no wonder they have to work in a whorehouse; it's probably the only way they can get laid. The guard who struck me shakes me roughly, his fingers digging into my arms. "What the hell is wrong with you, bitch?"

I sob and hold my face, hoping that his fingers didn't wipe off the makeup over my tattoo. "J-J-Julius! C-car c-crashed! W-Woods!"

The guard growls and slaps me again; releasing me and wiping his hands in disgust at the blood and mud he only just noticed seeping over my skin. He points at the second guard, I suppose he's his underling or a newbie, and commands him hoarsely. "Check the bitch for injury; I'm going to go look for Julius. Dumb bastard probably wanted to test the bitch's skills and ended up totaling his car. Rieldes is gonna be pissed, dude." He sighs and runs a hand over his face, trying to smooth the lines of frustration wrinkling his leathery skin. "Once you're done stick her with the other whores."

The second guard nods, taking my hands gently and giving me a reassuring smile as the first guard stalks off. I suppose he has only recently begun working for Rieldes, otherwise he wouldn't be able to hold a supposed whore's hands the way he is now. Hell, the guy looks young enough to still think there's some kind of good in the world even though he's working in a shit hole like this. The guard guides me towards a small bedroom and shuts the door behind us, sitting me on the bed carefully. As he starts washing my arms clean I listen carefully to the noises of the building. The first guard is letting another person know what's going on and it sounds like he's dragging a few unwilling souls with him into the woods. That's good news for me; the fewer to kill the better. I'll end up killing them all eventually, but I want a fairly clear path to Elena already established before I start trying to rescue her.

As the front door of the building closes and the noises outside cease, I turn my attention back to the guard who's busily de-mudding and de-blooding me. He smiles up at me, the reassuring smile still on his face. "I'm Connor, what's you're name, miss?"

A name is a good thing to know, I like knowing the names of people I'm going to kill. It makes it seem like we're on an even playing field when I watch Death snatch their souls. "A-Allie."

Connor smiles, it's one of those cheap, plastic smiles that people use when they're trying to be comforting but have nothing good to tell you. It's the kind of smile you direct at someone on death row when you're trying to tell them that dying isn't so bad; what a lie. "Well Allie, you're going to be staying here for awhile. It's safe here."

I sniffle and wipe my eyes, careful not to smudge my make-up as I look up at him, arranging my face into the most hopefully pathetic expression I can manage. "You t-think so?"

"I do." Connor nods and smiles at me, the very twist of his lips making me want to rip his face off. I don't care if he actually helped them take Elena; he's guilty by association just like everyone else in this whore factory.

I smile and reach into my bra, "I-I must look a m-mess after all this c-crying. M-mind if I t-touch up a bit?"

Connor shakes his head and watches me dig through my bra. "Not at all."

I blush softly; I'm so glad Turk training includes acting. "Would you t-turn around? It's not p-polite to watch a woman p-put her face together."

He turns with a smile and I stab him quickly, placing my hand over his mouth as I bury the knife in his back. He struggles vainly, tugging and biting at my hands as I twist the blade. I lower my voice and chuckle into his ear, "You really thought you were safe, didn't you?"

I let his body slump to the floor, cleaning my knife on my dress and watching his eyes carefully. Sure enough, as he glares at me in pathetically quiet horror, Death glares with him. I nod and salute the dying man, receiving a small bow from Death as he snatches the man's soul and leaves his eyes. I have a love-hate relationship with Death, he's been trying to catch hold of me for years and I keep throwing other souls in his path to skew his course. Eventually he'll catch me, but it won't be tonight. Tonight Death will feast.

I quickly lock the door as I hear footsteps outside, the clank of boots on tile making my adrenaline flow. I know it's not the first guard, he's got quite a long ways to go before he finds Sleazebag's corpse and he didn't look like he was in any hurry to find him. I unload my bra onto the bed and quickly tug off the dress; I need pants so I can maneuver better and have actual pockets to put my weapons in. I search through the drawers in the dresser and tug on some of Connor's clothes, glad he had brought me to his room instead of immediately taking me to the Too bad for him I'm not actually a whore, he probably would have gotten a piece of ass if I had been one.

I sigh with relief as I tug on pants, glad to have my legs covered again; I felt so damn naked in the dress. I load up my pockets with the weapons I've already stolen and steal more from Connor; the useless jerk only has a few knives and a gun I can't use. I kick his body under the bed unceremoniously and stuff the dress and shoes under with him, keeping the oranges for myself. As more boots stomp around outside the door I heft myself into the ceiling vent, glad that I'm small enough to slip into the metal tunnel with room to spare; I love old warehouses, back in the day people believed in roomy vents.

I shuffle along quietly, looking down slated grates whenever I get the chance. I see a few rooms with tired, used looking women performing their services and some empty hallways, but no Elena. I hope I've got time for all this incognito crap I have to put up with, I'd hate to get to her too late.

I look down into a room, frowning at a man beating a whore. She's bawling her eyes out, her brown hair tossed over her face as she tries to block his blows with her arms. There's a needle sticking out of one of her wrists and I suppose the man was trying to give her mako-laced drugs. Apparently she didn't want them though, because the syringe lying in a fluid puddle on the floor is broken. As the man beats her relentlessly, cursing and swearing at the top of his lungs, I pull out my cable. I fashion the taut metal into a noose and lower it through the grate, aiming for the man below me. Thankfully he's so preoccupied that he doesn't notice until I've got it maneuvered around his throat. Once he realizes there's a loop of metal around his neck he tries to pull it off, but I pull up as his fingers clutch at the noose. He chokes quietly as the noose cuts off his air supply, looking up at me in shock. Death grins and I nod, tugging harder as the demon reaper curls his claws through the man's soul.

As I start pulling the man upward, trusting his weight to break his neck, she spots me. I can see gratitude in her eyes as the neck of her abuser snaps, the crack of breaking bone louder than I want it to be. She tugs the needle out of her arm and smiles shakily up at me, moving out of the way as I drop man and cable to the floor. She sniffles and quickly shoves the corpse away from her, rolling it under the bed unceremoniously. She mouths a small, 'thank you' to me and is gone before I can do or say anything else. I crawl away, feeling cheated by the lack of information I got from the encounter.

I peek through another grate quietly, grinning at the lone whore sleeping inside. I lift the grate out silently, sliding out of the vent and landing on the bed beside her. I'll get the information I need out of this one. I shove my hand over her mouth as she jolts awake, stifling the small yelp of surprise she tries to make. "Shh! I won't hurt you or rape you or anything, I promise!"

She blinks at me, nodding softly as she peels my hand off her mouth. There are bags under her eyes that might be from tears or her makeup bleeding, it's hard to tell in the dimly light room. "Ya better get outta here, Slick, they aren't gonna like a Turk in here." I blink in confusion and she giggles weakly, holding her sheets over herself to hide her nakedness. "I seen ya on the telly once, ya were with Shinra. Ma told me ya were a Turk cuz of those scars ya have."

I touch my face lightly, frowning at the makeup that coats my fingertips when I pull them away. "Damn. I wanted those to stay hidden."

The girl shrugs; I can tell even in the dim light that despite the dark rings under her eyes and the impressive breasts barely hiding under the sheets that she can't be much older than sixteen, her face is too young. No matter what age she is, she's too young to have the poisonous, green mako tint running through her bloodshot eyes that she has now. They've obviously overdosed her; the color is bleeding from her irises to the whites of her eyes. She's going to die painfully of mako poisoning. The thought makes my sick. "Sorry, Slick. If yer hidin' in vents why do ya care about bein' found?"

I wipe the rest of my makeup off on her sheets, not caring that I've stained one of her only possessions. "Because I need to rescue someone before they figure out I'm here for her."

The girl blinks and clutches her sheets close, looking between me and the door apprehensively. "You're getting girls out? Can you….can you help me out? I wanna go back to me Ma."

I sigh and shake my head, placing my hand over her mouth as she prepares a sob. "If you start bawling, I'll kill you. Listen kid, I don't have a ton of time and I need to get her out first. I'll do what I can for the rest of you, but I can't promise a damn thing."

She nods and peels my hand off, rethinking her decision to cry. "Alright, Slick. Just….once yer out can ya give me Ma somethin' for me?"

I nod out of sheer pity, I don't even know this girls name and finding a slum mother is like searching for a needle in a haystack; there's so many slum mothers it's hard to tell the difference between them.

The girl gets up quietly; the sheets wrapped around her like a toga, and pulls something out from under the mattress. I hold my hand out and let her place the tiny scrap of fabric in my palm. I look at it curiously and raise an eyebrow at her, glancing towards the door as booted feet echo down the hall. "Who am I givin' this too?"

The girl sniffs softly and wipes her eyes, smearing her eyeliner a little more. "She's jus called Ma. Ask some'a the kids, they'll tell ya. Tell Ma that Kiya is sorry she ran off."

I nod and pocket the scrap, not wanting the girl to start crying. "I'll find her for you." Finding a woman called Ma will be impossible, there must be dozens of Ma's in the slums.

She smiles, even if she thinks I'm lying she doesn't give a damn, this gives her a chance to have someone reassure her Ma and that's all she cares about. "Thanks, Slick."

I nod and look around, "Are all the rooms like this one?"

"Yeah, they're all pretty trashy. Some are better than others but this one ain't one o' the good ones." She sighs and shivers, clutching the sheet close. "I heard from some'a the girls that Rieldes' favorites have rooms with lights and dressers and they get clothes and food that isn't mush. I think it's all crud though, I don't think Rieldes has any favorites."

I scratch my chin and try to memorize the layout of the room. "Kiya, ya got any idea where they take girls who've only been here a few days?"

Kiya nods softly, "They take 'em to look 'em over and then drug 'em up. The first couple days the drugs knock ya out, but after awhile they only make ya wanna puke your guts out if ya don't have 'em. Makes ya feel like yer dyin'."

I frown and look at her sternly, counting the number of echoes to try and gauge the distance of the boots making them. Unfortunately my time is running out, the boots are getting closer. "Where's that? Do you remember?"

She nods, pointing in the direction I'd been going before I dropped down on her. "They got this big ol' room at the end o' the hall. It's usually full o' girls but I don' hear the screamin' no more, not from no girls anyhow. They got one in there that's prolly gonna get shot if she doesn't start cooperatin' soon. I dunno why they didn' kill her already."

I beam and hug her, bursting with joy. I can only think of one woman who can take abuse without screaming or crying, and that's Elena. "That's her! That's the girl I'm looking for!"

The boots echo closer and she whimpers, pushing me off the bed and hiding beneath the sheets. My outburst was loud, but hopefully not loud enough to notice. "They's comin'! Hide!"

I nod and look around; upset that beneath the bed is my only option for a hiding spot. I crawl beneath just as the door opens and boots make an appearance in the doorway. The heavy leather things clomp their way inside, slamming the door behind them as they advance towards the bed. The voice accompanying the boots is harsh and gruff, edged with disdain where I would have tinted in a small bit of pity. "Spread the legs, Kiya. You know the drill."

I hear the girl rush to obey, tossing the sheets onto the floor near where I lay. As the boots get left behind on the floor, joined by thick pants with a heavy belt, my heart reaches out to the girl above me. She's about to get raped and there's nothing she can do about it. As socks disappear from my sight and the mattress presses down on top of me, I roll out from under the bed, unwilling to lie beneath the pair as they fuck.

I hide beneath the sheets she had thrown down, knowing that she had hoped I would use them to conceal myself. She's crying now, Kiya, and the booted man is enjoying every tear. I growl softly to myself as I rip off the sheets, jumping to my feet with a knife in hand. The man doesn't even seem to notice that a tall red-head just popped up out of no-where, but Kiya does. She looks at me, eyes full of mako and tears and hope. As I slam my knife into the chest of the man, I see her hope break. She wanted me to escape, but I couldn't leave knowing that she was being raped, not when she just gave me directions to Elena.

The man gives a short, high pitched scream that I immediately cut-off with another jab at his windpipe. Kiya rolls out from under him as blood pours from the wounds, shaking violently as the man crashes onto the bed. She looks up at me, voice choked by fear and anger as she whispers. "Ya were sposta leave! Ya didn' hafta do that!"

"Yes, I did." I whisper back, covering her with one of the sheets and tossing the other over the man's body before I can look in his eyes to see Death snatch him away.

"Ya jus got me killed, ya know that?" She starts crying again, sheet clutched tight to her chest. "They's gonna think I did it and I'm gonna get shot!"

I frown and shake her softly, not willing to waste anymore time than I already have. "No, you're not. Just run out screaming and say someone fell out of the vent and slashed him. You've got blood on your face and not your hands so they'll believe it." I jump and grab onto the vent opening, lugging myself up easily. "Just give me a minute to get a head start and then run out, alright? Go towards the big room, you'll distract the guards long enough for me to get her out." I pause momentarily and she waits, nervously shuffling her feet. I smile down at her kindly, "If I can I'll come back to get you, okay?"

I see her nod, her eyes shinning with poison tears and hope as she watches me. I doubt I'll see her again if I don't get her out tonight; she won't survive the mako poisoning much longer. I give her a curt nod and crawl away, determined to go as far as I can before they start looking for me.

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Author's Note: Damn I took forever on this chappie, huh? Sorry about that my lovely readers, life is just hectic. I think having 6 multi-chapter stories going at once and trying to update them all in a timely fashion (something I haven't managed for two of them in a long damn time) is too much for me. I'm going to try and finish them all out quickly, but I also want to uphold my writing standard. Forgive me if anything starts lacking.


	9. Chapter 9

I crawl through the vents, listening intently to the noises below me. I can't hear Kiya's voice yet, but I do hear voices. They're masculine and gruff, their low tones only barely intelligible through the metal shield of the vent. I shuffle along, hoping my knees and hands don't make too much noise as they strike the metal below me, but it seems that the arguing men are too absorbed with each other to even notice the small slaps of metal against flesh. I crawl until they're voices fade into the background, looking for a grate to slip through. There are a few spots in this part of the ventilation where the single tunnel becomes a branching web, the extra tunnels leading up, down, left, and right. I keep going straight, hoping that Kiya gave me the right directions.

Finally I hear a female voice, but it isn't Kiya. It's a voice that makes my heart shoot through my stomach and down to my feet. I rush to the grate the sound is coming from, drinking it in like it's an elixir. I look down, careful to keep myself quiet. I shake with rage at the sight below me.

Elena is sitting on her knees, her battered and bruised body heaving with each breath. She's completely exposed; they didn't even leave her a scrap of underwear to cover herself with. One of her wrists is obviously broken, the hand below it is shaking and mangled. She's got rope tied around her ankles and wrists, but she's already wormed her hands free of the rope and now it simply dangles from her good wrist. I suppose she'd have her feet free by now if it weren't for the fact that she's surrounded by murderous looking bastards. There's blood on the floor below her, she's obviously been beaten and abused and raped more times than I want to think about. One eye is black and nearly swollen shut, the other eye is busily trying to blink away blood that drips from a large rip of skin on her forehead. Empty and smashed glass syringes surround the floor around her, their contents leaked onto the floor and mixing with her blood. A few broken needles are sticking out of her arms and legs, but she doesn't seem to mind those, it's the syringe behind one of the needles that one of the men has pressed to her arm. She's looks too weak to fight back, but she still sounds as vicious as a cornered cat. "Get that shit away from me! Didn't I tell you to knock this shit off?"

I watch as the man pressed the needle against her skin, grinning with pride as she snatches it away and jabs it into his arm, pressing the plunger down violently. The man howls with pain and hits her, but she only grins and starts removing the other needles. "That's your last one, boys. Guess we're done for the day."

The man staggers back and lets his companions remove the needle from his arm, blinking in horror at the empty syringe. He starts to convulse and the other men cart him away, staring at her in horror as pain starts to tear him apart. This is the first time that I've ever actually been grateful that mako causes pain. "K-KILL THE BITCH!"

Elena laughs and leans against the wall behind her pathetically, wiping blood from her eye shakily. "Any of you boys got the guts to try and kill me? You left me a lot more needles today than yesterday. I'm sure I can do more damage."

The men back away, obviously frightened by the clutch of needles in her shaking hand. They look at each other, daring themselves to get closer. Elena laughs and throws one of the needles, striking it into the eye of a blonde who is standing too close. He howls and runs off, hands grasped over his face. Elena grins and holds up the next one, "You boys need to give up. Get some balls and a gun like that first man had and maybe you'll get close enough to touch me."

I barely contain a pride filled laugh as the men back away, drawn by fear and the sound of Kiya's screams. I wait until they've all gone before lifting the grate and slipping out. Elena tenses and I crash onto the floor gracelessly, tossing a needle that only barely misses my throat. I hold my hands up and whisper, "Laney, hold the fire it's me!"

"R-Reno?" Elena shakes softly and drops the needles, her good eye, if it can be called that, wide in shock. She quickly closes it as blood dribbles past her eyelashes, rubbing at the irritated red orb shakily. She cries softly, "Y-you came!"

I rush to her as quietly as I can, cupping her face in my hands and nearly crying with relief. I wipe the blood from her face, blotting it away on my sleeve. "Yeah Laney, I came. Sorry I took so long, I kinda ended up hospitalized and ex-Turkified."

Elena doesn't seem to care as she clings to my borrowed shirt with her good hand, the other hanging rather limp at her side. I look her over, examining every injury without realizing that I should just pick her up and run. The gruff voices are getting closer again and we're running out of time. I pull out my knife and start cutting the bonds at her ankles, noting every last cut, burn, and bruise on her beautiful frame.

She presses her hand against the cut on her forehead, trying to apply pressure shakily. "W-we gotta hurry, R-Reno. They never leave me a-alone for long."

I nod and cut faster, straightening once I've freed her. She shakily lets me help her to her feet, her many injuries making motion difficult. "We'll get out of here alive. I promise."

She sniffles weakly and looks at me, her good eye fixed on my hair. "Y-you let your h-hair down…It looks nice."

I laugh and prepare to pick her up, both actions stopped by a sudden, burning pain. I gasp as a bullet tears through my shoulder, my blood splattering on Elena's face as the bullet flies past her cheek. I feel my legs give out as pain blinds me, stagnating every sense I have. I fall to my knees, eyes wide enough to make the room spin. I can hear laughter, but it's muffled by the ringing in my ears. Elena falls to the ground beside me, unable to hold herself up for long without my help. I feel a strong hand grip my hair, tilting my swimming head back so that my eyes meet dark brown eyes.

The other eyes are set into a slightly scarred, tan face and they're wrinkled with amusement and distaste. I can feel a gun barrel pressed against my neck and I shiver, feeling blood seep through my clothes in copious amounts. The man looks at me and then Elena, grinning wickedly. "No this is your rescue party little blonde? The same man who couldn't protect you the first time? How pathetic." He kicks me and I fall forward, trying to catch myself with my hands. One arm refuses to move, however, so I end up rolling to my side. I feel a booted heel collide with my stomach and wheeze as the air is knocked out of my lungs, trying to fish out one of my many weapons in my pained state. I have to save Elena; I can't let her die here.

The man walks over to Elena, holding the gun beside her head as he cups her chin with his other hand. She shakes and lets him move her head, eye focused on me and lit with fear. I lock eyes with her as I manage to wrap numbing fingers around brass knuckles, sliding them on with a small nod. The man drags the barrel of the gun over her cheek tauntingly. "I thought you liked it here? You haven't begged for the end yet, so you must get some satisfaction out of what we do to you."

I struggle to my knees and scream as the gun is instantly fired at me, my elbow giving way as the bullet passes through it. The man clicks his tongue as I fall to the ground again, my face slamming onto crushed glass and mako. "You should think twice, pal, you don't go against a man with a gun when all you've got is some pussy as hell brass knuckles. It's embarrassing for both of us."

I grit my teeth in pain and roll onto my back weakly, glaring at the man as fiercely as I can. "G-get your f-filthy hands off her!"

The man laughs and releases her chin, walking over to me and setting a boot in my stomach, gun pointed at my eyes. I want this to turn out like all the dramatic rescue stories do. I want him to suddenly run out of ammo or have some unknown being suddenly seal up my wounds so I can fight back. I want Tseng and Rude to bust through the double doors at the end of the room and shoot him before his finger can squeeze the trigger. As I watch his cruel, twisted face lined with all its scars and hate-lines hover miles above my own, I know none of those things will happen. I can see the bullet lodged in the barrel of his pistol, ready to slam into my face if his finger twitches just a centimeter closer to him. I can feel my body leaking blood onto the cement floor beneath me, mingling my fluids with the glass and blood and mako and dirt that was already there. I hear gunshots outside the room and I know that any rescue party, be they Turks or whores, are seriously outnumbered and will probably get here in time to watch me reach the last stages of rigor mortis.

The man kneels closer and tugs the brass knuckles from my slackened grip, resting his knee on my blown apart elbow. I scream, I can't help it, and he laughs maliciously. "Maybe you can help me turn this one into a whore. What do you say, red?" I'm too busy screaming in pain to answer, but he decides to answer for me. "I'll take that as a yes. I'm sure that she won't be able to refuse us the right to use her when she knows that she'll hurt her bloody rescuer if she does. You wouldn't do that to him, would you darlin'?"

He looks at Elena and she cries, shaking her head weakly. "N-no, Rieldes, I w-won't. I-I'll do what y-you want just d-don't hurt him!"

Rieldes lifts himself off my elbow, making me want to cry in relief. I don't though, something that he seems sincerely impressed by. I glare at him with all the fire I have left, wishing Death upon him as he grips me by my hair and tugs me to my feet. He looks at Elena, his hand clenched tightly in my hair. "Once I hear that you're behaving, I'll think about giving this back. Until then he'll have to stay with me."

I struggle weakly, but it's really no use since I can't move my arms anymore. Elena curls up on the floor, sobbing weakly as Rieldes drags me out. I grin cheekily and choke out a few last words to her. "Don't worry, Laney! The others are on their way to come get us!"

Rieldes drags me out of the room, his fist tightening in my hair. I go limp, forcing myself to be dead weight so that he has to struggle. However, a gun barrel shoved into my nose so deeply that I have to go cross-eyed to see it makes my legs move again. I hum softly, challenging his fear factor by acting nonchalant. "So what kind of prison keeper are you, Rieldes? Are you the beat 'em and leave 'em kind or the quick and painless kind?"

Rieldes tosses me into a small room, letting me flop across the cement floor gracelessly and painfully. I groan softly and use my knees to pick myself up, ignoring the pain in my arms as best as I can. I wish he had at least left me the use of one hand, but he's too smart for that. I turn to face him just before he shuts the door, a wicked grin plastered onto his face. "I'm the leave 'em to die kind."

**

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**

Author's Note: Well….he found Laney…I did promise he'd find her…too bad he kind of got shot before he could save her. I like how vicious Laney is though! Despite her pain and suffering she was still awesome enough to kick some ass. YAY ELENA!


	10. Chapter 10

I push myself upright with my legs, biting my tongue to keep from screaming as my off-balance assent smashes my left shoulder against the wall. The impact jars my bullet-pierced shoulder, but even though it causes me pain I continue to lean on it. The pain helps me focus my slowly adjusting eyes and I blink around the dark, unlit room. Everything is hazy with the depthless perception of blind eyes, but I can at least make a small attempt at gathering my surroundings. I can't see or hear anything else in the room, but part of that might be because of the torrential noise going on outside the door at my back. Whoever came to rescue Elena and I is giving as much hell as they're getting, a sure sign that Tseng and Rude brought Soldier reinforcements. Usually I'd say I hate the under-trained meat-shields at Soldier, but they're helping the Turks save my ass so I can't find it in my desperate-to-survive heart to be upset with them. I may have to stop putting liquid laxatives in the Soldier floor water-tank for awhile once this is over.

I force myself to stand without support of the wall and shakily make my way to the door, not sure how I plan on opening it. I doubt Rieldes locked it, I can't exactly use my hands to turn the knob, but there's always the chance that he did. I can feel my shirt getting soaked with blood and I frown as I realize that the haziness in my eyes might be linked to more than a lack of light. Blood is practically pouring down my right arm; I can hear it dripping from the ends of my shaking fingertips. My left arm isn't much drier, but I can at least twitch my fingers enough on my own terms to curl my hand into a weak fist. My right arm won't budge at all; the bullets smashed through tendons, along with bone and quite a few veins and maybe even an artery. The artery would explain all the blood pouring onto the floor; I'm practically a walking fountain. I don't know how much longer I'll be walking though; the pain shaking my arms is making the rest of my body shiver and jerk in an almost electric fashion. It's as if I grabbed the business end of my EMR and was too stupid to let go. I've done that before, but I was drunk so that makes it kind of okay. Regardless of what is causing the shaking and jerking and gut-wrenching urge to vomit, I need to figure out how to get my ass out of here.

I run my left hand over the wall by walking, pressing it up against the cold poorly-wallpapered surface. I'm too incapacitated by pain to move my shoulder enough to run my hand across the wall the normal way. I wish Rieldes hadn't shot me; I really do. Bullet wounds are a pain in the ass, especially when they're in prime movement areas. I manage to find the doorknob and kneel down, wrapping my mouth around it and doing my best to turn it. I can't make my arm flex enough to reach it by hand. The knob refuses to turn past a certain point and as I let go I kick at the door in my frustration, adding a stubbed toe to the list of complaints my body is filing against me.

The noise outside is getting louder, frantic screams and shouts of triumph and agony are piercing through the walls around me. Death must be in hog heaven. I get the feeling that Tseng has ordered the Turks or Soldiers he brought with him to kill anything that doesn't resemble Elena or me; it's more efficient to kill anything that isn't the target you're searching for and Tseng is all about efficiency. Kiya is probably dead by now, most of the other girls were probably holed up in their rooms but she was in the hall, trying to get someone to help me. I hope I'm wrong and that she's alive and curled up safe under her bed, but I get the feeling that my hopes are worthless. She would have run towards the strangers firing bullets, thinking they were sent to help save all the girls, but she would have been shot down the same as any of the remorseless men who had charged at them with her.

Hoping has never done me any good, but if hope was dope I'd be high right now. I'm hoping that Elena will be found and that I won't bleed to death before someone finds me. I'm hoping that Kiya didn't die and that Rude and Tseng don't get shot in the rescue attempt. Hell, I'm hoping _I_ don't get shot again during the rescue attempt. Bullets are starting to shove their stubborn way through the walls and into my prison and although none of them have hit me yet, I feel the distinct need to edge away from the paper-thin barrier keeping me from being in the middle of the fray. Even though the door is my only hope of getting out of here, I find myself edging away from it as the bullets start piercing closer to where I am. I give the door one last kick and then back away from it, waiting for one lucky bullet to find the doorknob and blast the door open. It's a long shot, but if someone misses in just the right direction, I'll be free. Free to do what? I've got no idea, I can't exactly help the others fight in the condition I'm in, but I'll at least be able to see. Gods I want to see; flying blind is never comforting.

It feels like this waiting thing is taking forever, but part of that might be my lack of patience and my sense of time is ruined by my panicking. Every drop of blood that drips off my fingertips seems to drop off faster than the last, making me worry more and more that I'll run out of my precious fluids before someone can find me to help plug up the holes I'm leaking from. I'm sitting in a corner as close to the door as I dare to get, watching bullets tear the wall asunder and leave the door intact. Someone needs to work on having a poorer shot, I'm sick of waiting for this damned door to open. I'm so sick of waiting. I'm running out of blood. I need to get the hell out of here. I'm getting dizzy as fluid rushes out of my system and the small pricks of light shinning through the wall in front of me are proof to my disorientation as they swim and dance before my eyes. The plus side to the lack of blood in my system is that my body is now so worried about dying that it's stopped fretting over the pain and is now trying not to let my major organs fail. The bad side of this is that I'm fucking dying and can't do shit about it. I don't have the ability to use my hands to bandage up my leaking wounds and I can't apply pressure to stop the bleeding. I can only sit and worry and wait for natural clotting to take place, and I'm so sick of waiting.

Finally, after what seems like eons of waiting and struggling to keep my eyes open, someone gets enough brains to shoot the doorknob apart and shove the door open. I've never been so happy to see shrapnel as bits of doorknob go flying in every direction. A large, foggy, barely recognizable form rushes through the doorway flanked by others and I nearly cry with joy. Finally, someone found me. This someone doesn't seem intent on killing me either, the first thing the someone does is let a flash of green, wonderful, glorious, marvelous healing materia get put to good use on my arms.

Unfortunately for me, this someone doesn't know enough about healing to realize that my right arm really needs to be put back in its proper position before it gets healed up. As my eyes focus and I manage to look at my healed arm, I realize that my elbow is now pointing backwards. My, my, my, how disgustingly awesome this sight is. The doctors back at Shinra are going to have a field day when they see this. I hope a nurse faints; I get such a giggle out of fainting nurses.

I look up at my woefully un-medical rescuer and grin cockily as the face puts itself together. "Damn, Rude, you took your sweet time."

Rude snorts and looks at my arm, trying to figure out what he did wrong. "Had to search every room from the entrance to here. You're a real handful, ya know?" The two people that followed him in are standing guard by the door, their guns pointed outside. Hopefully that's a sign that Tseng has decided not to kill me, but I like I said, hopefully doesn't mean jack shit when I'm involved.

"Sir, we need to get him out of here. We still have to locate and secure the other target." One of the nameless people by the door sounds a little huffy and rule-bound to me. Can't he let me revel in my relief for a moment or two?

Rude nods and slings me over his shoulder unceremoniously, a sure sign that he's no longer worried about the fucked up job he did on my arm. I want to tell him that I can still walk, that my legs aren't broken and that being carted around like a cripple isn't something I want right now, but he's rescuing me so he gets to make the rules. I'm just going to shut my trap and let him work. "Lead the way."

I wish I could see where we are going, because the gunshot noises in front of me aren't very comforting. I know better than to distract Rude when he's focused though, it usually gets me a whack upside the head. I keep my mouth shut and drape over his shoulder like an ornamental sack of potatoes; a very red sack of potatoes. Now that I can see my arms in the light, the urge to vomit is very strong. Blood is caked over my arms and I wasn't even aware I was able to bleed so much without dying. I'm actually pretty sure I'm not able to bleed so much without dying. Death must have been so busy with his smorgasbord that he didn't notice I was supposed to join his festivities. I am one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

I look away from my mangled arms as corpses catch my eye, their glassy eyes and gaping mouths looking as disgusted as I feel. Death must be having the time of his afterlife because there are dozens of dead bodies lying around and people are still killing each other. Hopefully Death is only feasting on the enemy, but I'm pretty sure plenty of my allies are on his high-piled platter. Death has a knack for finding my friends first and my enemies later.

I wish I could plug my ears right now; machine guns are fucking loud. Rude is thankfully smart enough to let the two lackeys that are with us go ahead of him to draw fire from the scared-shitless gunner. Unfortunately for the lackeys, that means they've got to be meat shields for us. I'm so glad I'm not a lackey. It sounds like they tried to shoot back, but they were obviously caught off guard by the hundreds of bullets peppering through their skin. They really should have looked before they leapt, but it's a little late for that now. The guy is still shooting and screaming even though Rude and I haven't rounded the corner so I'm pretty sure the lackeys are dead and being torn apart by bullets. Poor, poor lackeys; we'll have to send them home in a matchbox. There's not going to me much left of them. I don't' even know why they ran into machine-gun fire; seems like they were begging for death to me.

Rude sets me on the ground and I sit where I'm put; I don't feel like trying to do anything heroic right now, I'm done for the day in that regard. I'll leave the heroics to Rude. I look up at him and wipe my hands off on the fairly clean shirt of the dead guy sitting next to me. "So are we waiting for him to run out of bullets or what?" It's hard to clean off my right arm when it's backwards, but I do what I can. I may ask the doctors if I can keep my arm this way for awhile, I can finally reach that itchy-spot on my back that has eluded my scratching fingers for years. Ah, sweet relief.

Rude watches me scratch my back with a look of disgust and then abruptly looks away without answering my question. The gross-factor of this backwards arm is making me like it more and more. I rarely get to see Rude's face turn that shade of green. I watch him intently as he starts edging towards the corner; I'm pretty sure he's nuts and I tell him so. What else are friends for if not to tell you you're being an idiot and you're going to get yourself killed? "Rude, you stick your head around the corner and you'll lose it! Think it through pal."

Rude rolls his eyes and takes off his watch, confusing the shit out of me. I decide to stay quiet and let him work since he is the only one of us working at the moment. I watch as Rude slips his watch around the edge of the hall and I stare at the image reflected in the watch's glass face. The kid holding the gun can't be much older than eighteen and it looks like he's already shit his pants. He's probably already pissed them too, unless the dark stain down his leg is blood. It wouldn't surprise me if the stupid bastard shot himself; he probably knows nothing about ricochet. As the second hand ticks around the face of Rude's watch in a steady, well rehearsed fashion, I watch this kid waste dozens of bullets trying to re-kill dead people. He's tearing up the already mangled bodies around him and I realize that he's shooting both his enemies and his comrades; not all of the corpses are in a uniform I recognize. This poor bastard probably went insane in the middle of the battle and now he's shooting just to shoot. I guess it makes him feel better or something. I just want him to get his finger off the damn trigger. Machine-guns are too loud.

Rude doesn't care for wasted bullets. If we only have one gun between the two of us, he's always the one who gets it. I can't aim for shit and Rude is one of the best shots I've ever seen. He could have been a Soldier sniper if he wanted to be, in fact I think that's what he was being trained for before the Turks, but I'm damn glad he got dragged into our department. As this kid shoots and screams, I watch Rude aim the barrel of his gun around the corner. He doesn't stick the whole gun out, just the very end of the barrel, and he doesn't even bother double checking his aim by looking around the corner. I don't blame him for that either, if he sticks his shiny dome around the corner he'll have it blown off. I watch in fascination from the floor, still scratching that relieving spot on my back with my mangled, fucked-up arm, as Rude takes careful aim and shoots the kid through the eye.

The kid goes down like a sack of rocks and the bullets stop flying. The one shot kill must be Rude's way of saying, 'stop wasting bullets you fuck-tart', and I think he got his message across very well. I know I just about shit myself when the kid's eye exploded, but the watch doesn't seem to care that about what it had been used to do as I stare at it with my mouth gaping open unattractively. It keeps ticking happily, completely oblivious to my horror. Rude lowers his watch arm and looks around the corner hesitantly, gun hand still raised. Apparently there's nothing out there because he turns around and slips his watch back on before he picks me back up, hefting me over his shoulder. He starts running and I do what I can to keep my head from bouncing off his back as I get jostled around. I don't like being carried around; it's kind of inconvenient.

Rude sets me in the back of a truck and someone starts mopping the blood off my arms, not caring to be gentle with me. Someone needs to train these field nurses to soften their touch on the potentially seriously injured. "Where's Elena, Reno?"

"Go back to the room you found me in and go left, then straight back. Elena's in a room with double-doors. Get your ass in gear!" I growl at him, wishing I had told him when he rescued me. I want to see Rieldes' face when Rude kills him, but I'll just have to settle for what my imagination can conjure up.

Rude nods and runs back into the building with a new group of meat shields, the shields will probably get killed, but I don't really care about them. They're serving their purpose and if they live, they'll probably get a raise. Tseng's pretty good about giving raises to people who deserve them and the few meat-shield Soldier infantrymen who manage to last through tonight will definitely deserve a pay raise.

This stupid field nurse is trying to shove my arm back into its proper position and I'm about ready to beat her. Can't she tell by my loud and very colorful swearing that her tugging hurts me? I'm about to take my working arm and hit her upside the head with it when Tseng hops into the back of the truck, a gun pressed to my forehead. That snaps me out of my pain fueled anger in seconds. "H-hey! Put that thing down!"

Tseng frowns at me and thankfully lowers his gun to my chest so I'm not going cross-eyed as I stare at the barrel. I've got no idea what's going through his head, but I'm sure it involves dismembering me. I wish I hadn't been swearing at this nurse so loud, it got his attention. "Where is Elena?"

"Get in and go left, and then right, then straight for a bit, then left again and straight the rest of the way. Rude's already on his way but if you hurry you can catch up to him. He's probably cleared the way for you." I would have told him even if he didn't have a gun, but I suppose he just didn't want to deal with the inevitable crap that I make him put up with.

Tseng leaves with his own set of meat-shields and I lay back, letting the field nurse clean me up. After the third tug on my arm, however, I end up punching her in the shoulder and screaming bloody murder. She leaves me alone after that and I'm glad, her hands were freezing anyways. I listen to the gunfight going on inside and smile as the sounds of screaming bullets grow less frequent, hoping that that means none of Rieldes' men are alive. I want Rieldes to be forced to fight alone when Rude and Tseng try to pry Elena from his brutal hands. I want Rieldes to suffer the way she has suffered. I want Rude and Tseng to break his wrist and stab him repeatedly with a really big syringe; I want them to beat him so badly that he's unrecognizable. I want them to finish the job by shoving a broomstick up that stupid kidnapping rapist's ass. I have a pretty good imagination for this kind of shit and if I were there I'd put it to good use on the sick bastard.

It seems to take an eternity, but finally all sounds of gunfire fade and a clean-up crew immediately starts flooding into the building to take stock of our loses. I sit up and watch the entrance that my allies are flooding in and out of for the blonde and the baldy that I want to see, but first I see stretcher after stretcher carted past with injured comrades and prostitutes nestled inside. I guess Tseng didn't give the order to kill anything that isn't me or Elena, because there are quite a few living prostitutes. I'm sure there are more of them dead inside, but I'm worried about the live ones. I watch for a sign of Kiya, but I know I won't see her. I stick my hand into my pocket and pull out the scrap she gave me, sighing softly as I realize that my stupid conscience will pester me until I do what she asked and find this Ma lady. It's going to drive me nuts, looking through the slums for a particular Ma when there are hundreds of Mas. I had a Ma when I was growing up in the slums, she wasn't my real mom, but she acted like a mom to me and about fifteen other kids who desperately needed what she could provide. Kiya's Ma is probably no different than mine which means finding her will be as difficult as finding a straight figure-skater.

I finally catch sight of the faces I want to see and hop out of the truck shakily, my legs trying to fold up beneath me because I still don't have enough blood in me to stand. I walk towards Rude and Elena, almost crying in relief as I see her chest rise and fall as she breathes. Rude has obviously used his sub-par healing skills on her too because her face isn't ripped or bruised anymore and her previously broken wrist is sitting at an odd angle on her arm. Rude makes his way towards me and sighs, shaking his head in either disbelief or disappointment. I can't tell which. His head shakes are hard to read. "Get back in the truck, Reno. You need medical attention."

"Not as bad as I need to see that you guys are alright. Where is Tseng?" I hope he's kicking Rieldes' ass, Tseng is about as imaginative as I am when it comes to torture, maybe even more imaginative, and I can't think of anyone better suited for the job of killing Rieldes than him.

Rude stops in front of me, knowing that I'm more worried about Elena's safety than Tseng's. After all, Tseng did shoot me. "Tseng is taking care of clean up. We're supposed to go back to Shinra and get you two taken care of. And before you ask, Tseng says you can't keep your arm that way and if he has to break it himself he will get it put back in its proper place."

I snap the fingers on my backwards hand and shake my head. "Awww nuts I liked being a freak."

Elena looks up at me with her blood-streaked face and tear-filled honey-brown eyes, crying quietly in relief. She looks like a million bucks to me even though she's in a state of total disarray. "You're okay!"

I nod and let Rude lead the way to the truck where the ridiculously rough field nurse is waiting with some gauze and a washcloth. "I'm just a little roughed up and backwards, as usual. It doesn't matter."

Rude sets Elena in the truck and lets the nurse start cleaning her up. I wish we had some clothes to give her; she looks like she's freezing. Rude picks me up by my collar and sets me back in the truck, lifting me as easily as a rag-doll. "Stay put this time."

I nod and salute him with my working hand. "Will do…Good work, partner. Thanks for everything."

Rude snorts and punches my shoulder lightly. "Don't think you're done repaying me for this because you said thanks. You owe me a drink. Hell, you owe me about fifty drinks."

"Let's just add this to my tab then, okay?" I grin and look back at Elena, who is now wrapped in a blanket the nurse gave her. Maybe that nurse just hates men; she's being awfully gentle with Elena. That or I've already traumatized this nurse in some way.

Rude nods, "deal." He leaves and I'm pretty sure he's going to kick the driver out of the front seat. Rude doesn't like riding in cars, he likes driving them. It's a well-kept secret between us that he gets car-sick if he doesn't drive. It's why nine times out of ten I'll let him have the wheel.

I scootch next to Elena as the truck rumbles to life, letting the nurse jump out and close the tailgate for us. Thankfully Rude fixed us up enough that she doesn't have to stay and try to force my arm back into position with her freezing hands. Elena rests her head on my shoulder and looks at her wrist. "Rude needs to work on fixing broken bones."

I nod and hold my backwards arm out for her to see. "No kidding. I think we can chalk these up to him being rushed and worried. He'll do better next time."

Elena shudders, "I hope there isn't a next time."

"Me too, this isn't my cup of tea." I wrap my left arm around her shoulders, pulling her head from my shoulder to under my chin. She doesn't protest the move and snuggles into me, making my heart soar. I want this to be a happy ending and so far it looks like I've got a good chance of living long enough for that to happen. I'm pretty sure Tseng will reinstate me into the Turks and get this entire fiasco wiped from everyone's record when we get back and I grovel for a little bit. I really don't want to go back to Shinra just so I can get shot or put in jail or something, but since Tseng didn't kill me when he had the chance I get the feeling that he never will.

Elena closes her eyes and rests against me and I get the strangest feeling that she's listening to my heart race. I know I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and surging with blood my body is making at breakneck speed to make up for the deficit it's in. I'm pretty sure Elena doesn't appreciate the gore I'm smearing on her by holding her around the shoulders, but she hasn't moved away or said anything so I'm not going to be removing my arm anytime soon. I think we both deserve this moment of peace after all we've been through in the past few days. This moment where she can relax and rest and I can keep her company. We'll both spend a few days in the hospital and then be back to normal, or at least as normal as we can be. I think I'm going to beg for a second chance to celebrate her birthday…

* * *

**Author's Note: And this story is….OVER! **

**I have this strange urge to say 'finally', but I also feel so sad that it has to be over. I would make it longer, but I want to leave it on a high note and I want to leave some room for future speculation for you lovely readers. That and ending this puts the number of chaptered stories I need to work on down to five and might leave me room to work on some more one-shots for you guys. I've been pretty slack on writing lately because of how overwhelming six stories is. I'm going to try and reign myself in in the future; I just can't sort all these different storylines out at once in my head without leaving something lacking in either depth or timing.**

**I thank everyone who reviewed and read and gave and continues to give me support and encouragement. **

**THANK YOU!**


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